#son qian | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starlightkun · 1 month ago

Text

❥・word count: 25.5k ❥・genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, single dad kun, single mom reader, there is some angst but not between reader and kun, more-so around them in terms of like life events ❥・warnings: cursing, kid on kid violence (biting lol) ❥・extra info: people are called ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’ in this so if u can’t be normal abt that maybe skip this one ❥・author’s note: omggg it’s finally here! this one has been a wip for like literally like 1.5 yrs i think? anyway im absolutely in love w single dad kun in this one, and i hope u guys fall in love w him too 🫶

“Mr. Qian, I’m failing to see how this is any of your concern.”

“Because you’re treating my kid like he’s a felon.”

“Well yours treated mine like a chew toy so excuse me for exercising some caution,” you finally snapped, tightening your grip around your son and cradling the back of his head.

PART I: moments turn to dreams within my mind

Woobin had always been a kid with big feelings, from big smiles to big tears, and as his mom you encouraged him to feel those big feelings when they came. Your older cousin often warned you that you were raising a “crybaby,” but you brushed off her attempts at parenting advice. You’d rather have your Woobin and all his softness than her kid who screamed and threw his monster trucks at the wall at the slightest provocation.

But that didn’t make it any easier for you to walk in and see your son bawling by himself in the corner of his classroom when you went to pick him up from preschool that afternoon. You immediately skirted around a couple other kids and parents to kneel down beside him, feeling your heart breaking as you rubbed his back, “Binnie, Binnie, hey, hey, hey. Mommy’s here.”

You caught the three-year-old by the underarms before he could throw his arms around your neck. His face was bright red, eyes puffy from clearly how hard he had been crying, and snot and spit coated his chin.

“Wait a second, Binnie, I know,” you kept your voice level and calm despite how frantic you felt. “Is it a scary cry or a boo-boo cry?”

It took him several deep inhales and sniffling exhales before he could sob out, “Scary and boo-boo cry, Mommy!”

“Oh, baby,” you immediately enfolded him in your arms, cradling him to your chest gently. “What hurts, Binnie? Can you show me the boo-boo?”

It was then that one of his teachers finally joined you, an apologetic look on her face, “Ms. Y/N, I am so sorry. We would have called, but it happened right before the end of the school day.”

“What happened?”

“Woobin had an incident with another friend.”

“An incident? What sort of incident?” You looked around for another crying kid, expecting that they both had gotten hurt doing something together.

Woobin had just pulled up the left sleeve of his whale patterned longsleeve shirt when his teacher explained to you, “Woobin got bit.”

And there, on your son’s upper arm was the bright red imprint of teeth marks. In fact, it seemed to have been so recent that you could still see the indents in his skin. You were filled with such a burning, white hot rage that your skin tingled and if you weren’t already holding Woobin, you think you would’ve swung on someone. You liked to consider yourself a level-headed person, in control of your emotions, but it was practically all out the window in that moment.

“He got bit?” You repeated her phrasing incredulously. “You mean another kid bit him.”

“I understand that this can be upsetting—”

“How did this happen?” You demanded, pulling Woobin’s sleeve back down and wrapping your arms around him tighter. “What were you doing?”

“Ma’am, I think it would be best for all of us to have a discussion about this together.”

“All of us? Including the biter’s parents? I want to know what you are going to do to make sure my child is safe at your preschool before I even think about bringing him back here, much less have some mediation like he’s at fault as much as the kid who bit him.”

The teacher paused, as if waiting to see if you were done, before speaking again, “Ms. Y/N, it is our policy in such incidents to have a meeting between school personnel and the guardians of both involved children, regardless of... injury. In order for Woobin to keep his spot, you two are required to attend this meeting. We understand if you wish to seek out different accommodations for him, however, we’ve found that all parties are typically satisfied with the outcome of this process. I highly encourage you try it, and if you still want to pull Woobin from our program after, that is of course your decision as his mother.”

Your chest was heaving as you took deep breaths, clenching your jaw as you stared her down. After a few moments of deliberation and listening to your son’s continued sobs, you let out a short and bitter sigh, “When would this meeting be?”

“After school tomorrow. Will you be available then?”

“Fine. Yes,” you stood up with your boy still in your arms, shifting him onto your hip. “But Woobin will not be at school tomorrow.”

“He will be missed,” she nodded with that same placid smile.

As you stalked out of the classroom, you passed by a father and son speaking to the other teacher.

The next day, you dropped Woobin off at your parents’ place with a peck on his forehead and profuse ‘thank you’s to them. You had vented to your mother on the phone the night prior, after putting your son to bed, finally letting loose all the obscenities that you had wanted to in the preschool. Your mom gladly took her grandson for the day before shooing you off to work.

You then had to leave work a little early to pick Woobin up from your parents’ to take him to the preschool since the meeting was to take place right after the school day ended. For some godforsaken reason that escaped you, they required the kids to be in attendance at the meeting too. As if your three-year-old was really going to be testifying about the entire situation. The most him being there could accomplish was prove that he had a bite mark, which a picture on your phone could also do.

After a “give ‘em hell” from your mom, and an offer to come along from your dad, which you contemplated for a moment, then declined, you started for the school. While your dad coming along would make you feel better, it would also make you feel like you were buying your first car again and were afraid of the salesman trying to scam you for being a woman. This was a meeting about the welfare and treatment of your son, you could do this.

Standing in the lobby with some other parents who were milling around, waiting for the respective classrooms to announce they were ready for pick-up, you found yourself tapping your foot impatiently. The 1-year-olds picked up first, then the 2-year-olds. As those families filtered out, you were left with only a few parents, as this section of the school only went up to 3-year-olds. The 4-year-olds went to a different wing of the building for VPK, and you knew that the other buildings on the rather expansive campus held an elementary, middle, and even high school.

You felt Woobin shift in your arms to get comfortable, and readjusted him to your other hip, “Sorry, Binnie, I know you’re tired.”

“Do you two want to sit?” A voice spoke up from behind you.

You turned around and had to look down at a man in a suit sitting on one of the padded benches in the lobby. He was presumably some kind of businessman from the nice upkeep and fit of his suit, even as he had loosened the tie a little bit for being off of work. His handsome, friendly smile would’ve made your heart skip a beat on any other day, if you weren’t on a mission today.

All of the seating had been taken up when you got there, and you didn’t even think to look around for open spots as other parents started to leave.

The man shifted to one end, gesturing towards the open spots that could fit probably three adults comfortably. You smiled at him gratefully, “Oh, yes, thank you.”

You sat down, keeping your sleepy Woobin on your lap. Being at his grandparents’ today had thrown off his usual nap schedule, and you rubbed his back soothingly. Rolling up his sleeve which was on the side opposite from the man, you inspected the bite mark. It had blossomed into a rather gnarly bruise overnight, all blue and purple, and it only made anger churn again in your chest. He hadn’t given any indication that it still hurt as you fixed his sleeve, thumb tenderly swiping over the area after.

Finally, the three-year-old class was dismissed for pick-up, and the other parents gathered their children. You hung back, waiting for all of them to filter out, before you approached the classroom. You figured the parents of the biter would still be in there, but hadn’t expected the man who had offered you a seat to be the one there with another little boy and the teachers.

“Wonderful, everyone is here,” Mrs. Chen, the older of the two teachers, announced.

“Qian Kun.” The man took it upon himself to do the introductions, bowing to you politely. He then ruffled the hair of the boy standing beside him, just above knee-height, “And this is my son Junyi. I am deeply sorry for Junyi biting Woobin, Miss…?”

“Y/L/N Y/N,” you half-nodded half-bowed back to him as best you could with Woobin in your arms. “And before we get into all that, what I really want to know is—” You rounded on the teachers. “How this could have even happened.”

Ms. Xu, the younger teacher with whom you had spoken yesterday, opened a door on the far side of the classroom, “Of course. We’ll be having the meeting in here.”

With a short sigh at how your question was once again brushed off, you stepped into the interior office space. It looked like it must be where the teachers took their breaks and did any sort of administrative work. A few desks were against the walls, closed laptops and bags set on a couple of them. There was a table set up in the middle, four chairs around it, and a small area with toys off to the side.

“We have a place over there for the children to play while we discuss,” Ms. Xu smiled, gesturing to the toys you’d spotted when you walked in.

Mr. Qian nodded, gently directing his son towards them, “Go on and play for a bit, Junyi. Daddy’s going to talk right over here, okay?”

Junyi toddled over and plopped himself down on the playmat, picking up a truck and doll, easily entertaining himself. The other three adults looked to you and your son expectantly.

“Thank you, but Woobin is going to be staying with me,” you informed them. All the talking had made Woobin stir, but he seemed rather content in your arms anyway, simply looking between all the adults with big, curious eyes.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I assure you, I had a talk with Junyi last night and again this morning about not biting our friends. He shouldn’t be doing that anymore.”

“And I assure you, Mr. Qian, my concerns are not about your parenting,” you told him frankly. “But Woobin will be remaining with me for the duration of this meeting.”

“Ms. Y/L/N, really, Woobin will be fine with Juny—”

“Mr. Qian, I’m failing to see how this is any of your concern.”

“Because you’re treating my kid like he’s a felon.”

“Well yours treated mine like a chew toy so excuse me for exercising some caution,” you finally snapped, tightening your grip around your son and cradling the back of his head.

Mr. Qian’s jaw dropped, and Mrs. Chen cut in before he could say anything else.

“Let’s all sit down and try to have a more productive discussion.” The words were phrased like a suggestion, but the stern tone she said them in very much let you know that they weren’t. “Ms. Y/L/N, Woobin can of course be wherever you are most comfortable having him.”

You nodded to her curtly, taking a seat at the table. With Woobin more awake, you turned him in your lap to face the table, and set up a couple toys and small games on the tabletop to keep him occupied. The teachers took a seat beside each other, leaving you and Mr. Qian sitting caddy-corner.

“First, I want to know what happened,” you demanded, entirely focused on the two teachers.

Ms. Xu took over the explaining, “The class had earned free play yesterday after finishing their curriculum work early. After, we were doing our end of the day clean-up activities, which all of the students help with. Junyi and Woobin were assigned to pick up toys this week. It seems there was a disagreement about who was going to be putting away a specific toy, a whale. Woobin was bit.”

You clenched your jaw at that passive phrasing again. “And where were you two when this was going on?”

“Mrs. Chen was assisting the students who were cleaning the snack tables on the other side of the room. I was the one overseeing the students tidying that side of the room.”

“What do you mean when you say disagreement? I’m trying to understand how it was allowed to escalate into biting.”

Mr. Qian finally spoke up again, “Ms. Y/L/N, Junyi has never done anything like this before, I honestly don’t know where this came from. He’s not a mean kid.”

“Mr. Qian, that is not what I said nor asked,” you turned to him coolly. “I want to know what exactly she was seeing and how much time she had to intervene.”

Ms. Xu recalled, “The two of them were getting along fine. Junyi did seem to be getting a little frustrated, and Woobin was beginning to tear up, but there was no contact at that point, and we know how Woobin is.”

She glanced at the boy on your lap with a sympathetic look, and it took everything in you to hold back your revulsion at her. Yes, your son was quicker to cry than others, but that didn’t mean that as the adult, she shouldn’t investigate what exactly was making him cry.

“I was keeping an eye on the situation to see if they would resolve it on their own,” she tried to reassure you. “If I had thought that it would escalate like that at all, I promise I would have intervened. The contact was entirely unexpected and very sudden.”

“The biting.” You clarified flatly.

“Well, yes,” she nodded. “As soon as I saw it happen, both Mrs. Chen and I went over and separated the two. It was no more than a second or two at most, Ms. Y/N.”

“It sounds like you two did the best you could’ve,” Mr. Qian told the teachers before turning to you once more. “Ms. Y/L/N, again, I am so sorry that Junyi did this, but it sounds like it really did come out of nowhere.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply to recenter yourself. Entirely ignoring Mr. Qian’s platitudes, you looked at the teacher, “It took you just a second or two to separate them?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Binnie, may I?” You murmured to your son, reaching for the sleeve of his shirt.

“Okay, Mommy,” he easily let go of his toy for you.

Rolling up the longsleeve of his shirt you turned him a little to show off the deep black, blue, and purple bruise in the perfect shape of a set of little teeth to the other three adults sitting around the table with you. Ms. Xu audibly gasped, Mrs. Chen covered her mouth and looked away, and Mr. Qian had the most visceral reaction, grimacing with his whole upper body as if he’d been slapped.

“I simply find it hard to believe that it was only a mere one or two seconds when my son’s arm looks like this now,” you stated, making firm eye contact with both teachers. “So, I will ask again: How long did it take you to separate them?”

Mrs. Chen and Ms. Xu exchanged uncomfortable looks before the older woman took over speaking.

“Ms. Y/N, I’m not sure if you’ve had experience with removing a child that’s bitten onto another and won’t let go, but you can’t simply rip them apart without causing further damage to the other child’s skin. Ms. Xu couldn’t separate them on her own, she had to wait for me to get there, and as we’ve already said, I was on the other side of the classroom. So yes, it did take longer than we would have liked to separate the two.”

“So it took longer than two seconds, which is what you just told me, twice. You have lied to me twice now about how my child got injured in your classroom.” You rolled Woobin’s sleeve back down, absentmindedly patting his head. Leaning forward as much as you could with him there, you jutted your pointer finger decidedly into the tabletop outside of his toys, “So now I want to know what you and the school are going to do to ensure my son’s safety in your classroom.”

The father beside you suddenly jolted into action at your words, “Ms. Y/L/N, Junyi won’t—”

You rounded on him incredulously, doing your best to both be firm while not absolutely losing it on him, “Mr. Qian, I have already told you that I am not here to concern myself with how you parent your child. And I think the fact that you take my concern for my own child’s wellbeing as an affront to your relationship with yours says more than I would ever think is appropriate for me to.”

Okay, maybe you lost it on him a little.

With him sufficiently dumbfounded, you were able to focus back on the school staff in front of you, “Now please, can we get back to the topic at hand? I want to know what you two plan on doing about classroom management and observing the children under your care to prevent future incidents like this from happening. And I want it written down in a formal document, with assurances from your superiors about how both that and your staff training on communication with parents will be handled, because it certainly can’t include lying to them.”

Ms. Xu looked down at her lap guiltily, while Mrs. Chen simply looked disgruntled. You held the older woman’s gaze steadily, having a distinct feeling that little lie you’d been told was her doing, and the junior teacher was following her own superior’s lead.

“Of course, Ms. Y/N. I will call the principal right now to aid in drawing up the document you’ve requested,” Mrs. Chen acquiesced, standing up and moving over to one of the desks, picking up the landline phone sitting there.

You nodded to her, finally letting your eyes drop down to your kid in your lap. You were unable to fight off the smile that spread across your lips as you looked at your son, picking up one of his hands and bringing it up to your mouth to kiss his little fingers.

“My turn Mommy!” He squealed, grabbing one of your fingers and giving it a comically loud smooch.

You could feel Mr. Qian’s gobsmacked stare on you still, but ignored him. You’d done what you came here to do, none of which involved making nice with the biter’s parents. While what you’d said about not wanting to comment on his parenting was true, that didn’t mean that you hadn’t formed a silent opinion or two about it, especially with how defensive he was. Needless to say, with how he’d attempted to handle this, you didn’t really think very highly of Mr. Qian.

After leaving the mediation with your own copy of the formal plan on how the three-year-old classroom’s management and safety procedures were going to be tweaked—with specific policies about biting and inter-student de-escalation—and a form that you and Mr. Qian had signed attesting that you participated in and were satisfied with the mediation process, you paused in the lobby of the school. You were juggling too many things: the papers, some of Woobin’s toys, Woobin, your purse, all while trying to get your car keys.

“Hey, you need some help?”

You turned to Mr. Qian with a strained smile, “No, thank you, we’re okay.”

Considering the conversation over, you went to set Woobin down on the ground, “Here, Binnie, wait right here next to Mommy.”

“Oh, glad to see his legs do work.” The man was apparently still there.

“Yes, they do.” You pressed your lips into a flat line, not very amused. “And I don’t appreciate the passive-aggressive comment on my parenting, Mr. Qian.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Your joke was referencing the fact that the entire time you’ve seen Woobin and me this afternoon, I’ve been either carrying him or holding him in my lap, despite the fact that he can stand on his own. You’ve been letting your son walk on his own all afternoon and haven’t picked him up once. Thus, implying that I’m coddling my son and raising him to be dependent on me, while you’re raising yours to be independent.” You tossed Woobin’s toys into your purse, then folded the papers in half to tuck in as well. “Trust me, I’ve dealt with lots of people thinking they can give me unwarranted advice on parenting. Especially men who think I’m going to give him one too many hugs and he’ll develop an Oedipus complex. They also presumably think that my uterus is roaming around my body causing me to become hysterical while I’m telling them off, too.”

Having finally fished your car keys out from the bottom of your purse, you hoisted Woobin back up into your arms, defiantly making eye contact with the father, “Goodbye, Mr. Qian.”

A couple weeks of uneventfully picking up Woobin from preschool passed by. You saw Mr. Qian in the lobby, or passed by him in the classroom, of course. But you made no moves to talk to or even acknowledge him, nor he you. Ms. Xu seemed genuinely apologetic about what happened, doing everything possible to ingratiate herself to you at every opportunity, chatting you up at pick-up, asking about your day at work, or telling you about how well Woobin did at curriculum or art or such during the day. Mrs. Chen was cordial, and did your requested weekly check-ins on how the implementation of the new procedures were coming along. You sincerely engaged with and thanked her after each update. After all, you wanted your relationship with your son’s teachers to be productive, not adversarial. As long as they were done lying to you.

Today when you went to pick up Woobin, he was contently sitting in his chair at a table, swinging his feet under him. You squatted down beside him, mussing up his hair a bit, “Hey, Binnie. Have a good day?”

“Yes,” he nodded, reaching out towards you, and you grabbed his hand. “Missed Mommy.”

“And I missed Binnie!” You replied, squeezing his little tummy, delighting in the bright little giggle he let out. “Now come on, bubbles, let’s go home.”

“Oh, Ms. Y/N!” Ms. Xu was suddenly at your side before you could stand up.

“Ah, hello, Ms. Xu, how are you?”

“I’m very excited, actually. But first, Woobin had a fantastic day at school today. He went down so easy for naptime, and he finished the curriculum so fast that we brought out a 4-year-old worksheet for him just to see, and he did that one too! It was some counting, and he did great!”

You turned to your son with a grin, “Did you have fun doing all that counting, Binnie?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“And are you proud of yourself, bubbles?”

“Yes, Mommy. Can I have a high five?”

“You can have two high fives,” you held out both your palms for him to smack his little hands into.

Turning back to the teacher, you indulged her in the question she very clearly wanted you to ask, “And why are you so excited, Ms. Xu?”

She handed you the piece of paper in her hands, “Well, the Fall Festival is coming up. The entire campus pitches in to put it on, and this year the preschool is running the Bake Sale table. We’re asking parents to volunteer to either bring treats, set up, break down, or do a shift running the table. If you’re able.”

It looked like you were the first parent Ms. Xu had given the sign-up sheet to, all the slots were empty. Eight slots to bring different baked goods, and two slots for each hour-long shift. While you weren’t exactly feeling charitable to the school—Woobin’s bruise still hadn’t fully healed—you noticed the text at the top of the sign-up sheet advertising that any parent who volunteered would get two free ride tickets. Woobin hadn’t gone on his first Ferris Wheel yet, and that was a memory you were looking forward to making with him.

“The ride tickets—” You tapped that part of the paper to draw Ms. Xu’s attention to it. “Will there be a Ferris Wheel?”

Her face immediately lit up and she nodded fervently, “Yes! And Woobin should be just big enough as long as he sits in your lap.”

Well, you could kill an hour running a Bake Sale table with another random preschooler’s parent then take Woobin on the Ferris Wheel. You quickly scribbled down your name for the first hour after the set-up shift, then handed the paper back to Ms. Xu.

The day of the Fall Festival was upon you, and you were holding Woobin’s hand as you walked across the expansive campus grounds. The booth where the preschool’s Bake Sale was set up was near the other food and carnival games towards the front of the grassy clearing, and you could see the Ferris Wheel at the very back. You were about fifteen minutes early, and most vendors were still finishing setting up. Since you were doing the first shift, you wanted to make sure you weren’t late, as well as see if there was anything from set up that you could help with if needed.

The Bake Sale booth was easy to find, and you saw two men there carrying in large tubs filled with containers of various baked goods.

“Good morning!” You greeted them brightly. “Are you the set-up crew?”

“Johnny Suh,” the taller of the two gestured to himself, then to his companion, “Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Nice to meet you two, I’m Y/L/N Y/N, and this is Woobin. I’m on the first shift. Your kids are in the three-year-old class as well, right?”

“Yes, Sungchan,” Mr. Jeong confirmed with a smile. “I think I’ve seen you around the classroom at drop off and pick up before.”

“And Mark is my boy,” Mr. Suh nodded, then looked around the property. “Well, these are the last of it. Now, he should be around here somewhere…”

You followed Mr. Suh’s gaze, and your stomach dropped as you recognized two familiar figures approaching the table from the direction of the school. Qian Kun was holding a metal box in one hand, and his son’s hand with the other. He set the metal box down on the table.

“Sorry, had to get the money box from Mrs. Chen in the classroom,” he explained, then looked to the two men with you. “Thank you, Mr. Suh, Mr. Jeong. Ms. Y/L/N and I have got it from here.”

“Alright, we’ll see you at the end for break-down, then,” Mr. Suh slapped Mr. Qian’s shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“Goodbye, Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Qian. You too, Woobin and Junyi!” Mr. Jeong gave waves to all four of you before taking off after the other man who was already several long strides away from the table. “Hey, Johnny!”

Two pop-up chairs were set up behind the table, and Mr. Qian grabbed a bag that was beside one, unfurling a playmat from the inside and laying it down on the ground beside the table. He poured out a bunch of toys too, then squatted down beside his son.

“Alright, Junyi, I need you to look at me. Daddy needs you to play on this blanket today, okay? If you need to go off the blanket, you have to tell Daddy first. It’s so we can stay safe. You cannot leave the blanket without telling Daddy. All your favorite toys are there, you’re going to play with them and have fun. I’ve got snacks and stuff, too. But you need to stay on it. Do you understand, Junyi?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Okay, can you please tell me what you’re going to do then?”

“I’m going to play on the blanket.”

“And what if you want to leave?”

“I ask Daddy.”

“Why?”

Junyi’s face screwed into a pout as he tried to remember. “I forgot, ‘m sorry…”

“That’s okay, buddy. It’s so we can be safe,” Mr. Qian repeated it for him. “Now, why are we going to stay on the blanket?”

“So we can be safe.”

“Good, buddy,” He ruffled his son’s hair. “Now go play, I’ll be right here at this table.”

The man stood up straight again, his eyes flicking over you briefly as he began organizing the sweets on the table.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N. Woobin is welcome to play on the mat with Junyi during the shift, if you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

“Oh, thank you.” You led Woobin over to the mat as well. “Binnie, Mommy is going to be working for a while at this table. Your job is to stay on the playmat with Junyi, so that you two can stay safe, okay? You cannot leave the playmat without Mommy.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“So tell me, what are you going to do?”

“Play with Junyi.”

“Where?”

“On the playmat.”

“Can you show Mommy what all the playmat is?”

He pointed to the edges of the yellow and blue blanket for you.

“And are you going to leave it without Mommy?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“So I can be safe.”

You grinned at him, “Thank you, bubbles. Go play, baby. Call for Mommy if you need me, okay?”

“Okay.”

After depositing a few more toys that you had brought along for Woobin on the mat, you returned to where Mr. Qian was setting out the food.

“Here,” he held a tray of brownies out to you. “These will go there, right in front of you.”

“Oh, got it.” You set them down exactly where he gestured. “So, you signed up for set up and the first shift?”

“I’m actually helping to run the Bake Sale, so I’m setting up, breaking down, and filling in for whichever slots nobody signed up for.”

“Wait, did you bake these, too?”

“Only the ones in containers with the green lids. Other parents contributed too.”

You looked over the baked goods he had indicated. All the ones in the green containers looked the best, you had considered in the back of your mind that one of the richer parents might have just bought them from a bakery and brought them in instead of baking themselves.

Sneaking a glance at the man beside you, you then panicked when you realized that he was already looking at you, expectantly holding out a plate of frosted sugar cookies.

“Here, next to the brownies.”

“Right, on it.”

Mr. Qian cleared his throat, “I am surprised, Ms. Y/L/N… that you’re allowing Woobin to play with Junyi.”

“I’ve also allowed him back at school for the past month, Mr. Qian.” You pointed out. “As I said, my issue has never been with Junyi, but with how the school handled the entire situation.”

“Hm.”

You let out a short sigh, “Though, I am sorry for some of the things I said at that meeting, they were out of line.”

“Some? May I inquire about which ones?”

“The chew toy thing…”

“Oh, yes.”

“And the whole ‘my concern over my child’s safety not being an affront to your relationship with yours.’ That was seriously… awful of me. Just so pretentious,” you breathed out, feeling ashamed as you relived your words. But if you were to ever expect to teach your son humility and owning up to his mistakes, you had to practice it yourself. “I said I wasn’t there to comment on your parenting and then I did exactly that in the exact same breath. I’m sorry, Mr. Qian, and I hope you can believe me when I say that.”

He held your gaze steadily, “I forgive you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Everything else I said, though, I stand by,” you reaffirmed pointedly.

“I understand,” he nodded.

You were pretty sure the festival had officially opened, as families had begun filtering in. Some were slowing down as they passed by your table to skim their eyes over your offerings, but none had stopped so far. So you were still just stuck there with Qian Kun and the overwhelming silence that felt like it was damn near suffocating you.

“So, what do you do for a living?” You finally decided to ask. If you weren’t going to be holding a grudge against the guy, you might as well make small talk.

“I’m in sales.”

Okay, small talk was not his forte. This was going to be like pulling teeth.

“Well it seems like they put the Bake Sale table in good hands, then.”

“What about you?” At least he understood reciprocity.

“Publishing.” Yeah, you weren’t any better than him. You stumbled to add on more information, “Uh, I’m a copy editor.”

“Is that like a proof reader?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

And at that moment, your blessed first customers walked up to your booth, a group of high school students, and you leapt at the opportunity to get out of that awkward conversation.

When your hour shift was finally over, you gleefully picked Woobin and his toys up from the playmat, took your two free ride tickets from Mr. Qian, and waved goodbye to him and the new volunteer parent who had shown up to take over your slot.

“Alright, Binnie, the Fall Festival is our oyster,” you looked it over with shining eyes. “What should we do first?”

Two hours later, and you were just finishing up your slightly late lunch. You scrolled through the delightful pictures that you’d taken of you and Woobin on the Ferris Wheel, sending a couple to your parents before tucking your phone away.

“Dessert sounds good, don’t you think?” You suggested to Woobin, and the Bake Sale popped into your mind. Those desserts that Mr. Qian made had looked really good, and you weren’t able to try any when you were working the table this morning…

“Please, Mommy?”

“You didn’t even need to ask, bubbles, Mommy wants some dessert too,” you admitted, taking his hand in yours. “I think we should go get some of those sweets that Junyi’s dad made. How does that sound? Did you see them earlier?”

There was a short line that you bumped up against at the Bake Sale table, just a couple families ahead of you. When you finally got to the front, your greeting to Mr. Qian stopped in your throat as you took in the empty spot beside him.

“Are you all by yourself, Mr. Qian?” You craned your neck to look around for signs of another parent.

He let out a tired sigh very clearly from deep within, eyes conveying a harrowed, ominous kind of exhaustion, “It seems as though the parent who signed up for the last four slots has skipped out on me. Been by myself for the past thirty minutes or so. I gave up on him about fifteen minutes ago.”

With a resolute nod, you hoisted your son up onto your hip and slid around to the other side of the table to stand beside Mr. Qian, “Binnie and I will finish the day out with you two then.”

“No, Ms. Y/L/N, you really don’t have to. I’m sure you have things to do, and I can run a preschool Bake Sale by myself.”

“Junyi! Come play with Woobin over here please!” You called after the little boy that you’d spotted toddling a little too far away from the playmat for comfort.

The man whipped around as his son came waddling back over at the sound of his name, clearly unaware that he had just wandered off. He squatted down to chastise the boy, reminding him to stay on the blanket. Junyi nodded, plopping down with his toys.

“I’m not leaving you out to dry, Kun,” you told the father frankly, sitting Woobin and his toys back down on the playmat too.

He gave you a frazzled smile, “Thanks, Y/N.”

Another couple hours passed by of you and Kun jointly running the Bake Sale table. Word had apparently spread since the first hour that you’d done with him in the morning, and the treats were extremely popular. Your line was never empty for more than a minute or two, and often times wrapped past other booths. Now you could see why Kun was so out of it when you had gotten there, he had been doing this by himself, even for just thirty minutes, with Junyi there.

The two of you fell into a symbiotic rhythm of taking orders, payment, handing out food, and keeping an eye on the two boys with you.

In a rare, brief lull between customers, you were caught off-guard when it was also quiet behind you. The telltale giggles, babbling, and nonsense conversation of Woobin and Junyi had faded out. You frowned thoughtfully as you finished rearranging the brownies in front of you, about to turn around to investigate anyway when a heart-wrenching wail pierced the still air. Immediately, you went to jerk around to comfort your crying Woobin, but were stopped in your tracks, so caught off-guard to see that it wasn’t your son sobbing. He was standing in front of Junyi, who was sat on the playmat, half-crying and half-screaming his head off.

Kun couldn’t get the cash in his hand into the register fast enough, and you rushed over to try to get Woobin to at least back up. Crowding Junyi definitely wasn’t going to help.

But you stopped as you realized that Woobin was talking to the other boy.

“Junyi, scary or boo-boo?” Woobin quietly asked him. After he didn’t get a reply, he asked again, “Scary or boo-boo?”

Junyi managed to blubber out, “Scary!”

Kun had finally arrived on the playmat while you watched on with wide, bewildered, and awestruck eyes as Woobin gave Junyi a big hug. The dad looked even more confused than you.

“What’s going on?”

You held up a finger for him to wait a moment, then turned to your son, “Binnie, do you know what happened to Junyi? Why is he having a scary cry?”

“Junyi fell down, Mommy,” he answered you dutifully.

“Okay, thank you,” you nodded to him. Looking at Kun, you explained, “Seems like Junyi just fell down. I don’t think he’s hurt, it just gave him a scare.”

“Daddy!” Junyi whimpered, and Kun gently extracted him from the other toddler’s arms to bring him into his own. Cradling his son, Kun murmured soft reassurances to him as the boy clung to his neck.

“Uh, thank you, Woobin,” he nodded to your son. “I’ve got Junyi from here.”

“You’re welcome,” Woobin replied, but you could see the moistness gathering in his eyes too. Oh, your big-hearted kid.

Both you and Kun brought your respective kids back to the table with you, sitting in the pop-up chairs with them in your laps. The two of you were quiet until Junyi’s sobs had simmered down into little hiccups, and you could feel that Woobin’s breathing had evened out into a nap.

“Okay, how did you do that?” Kun whispered at you.

“Do what?” You replied just as quietly.

“Get Woobin to do what he just did.”

“By asking him the exact same question pretty much every single time he’s cried for the past three years,” you answered honestly. “And he didn’t use to even answer me, much less ask other people that. That’s the first time he’s ever done that, actually.”

“Huh…”

Mr. Suh and Mr. Jeong came back an hour and a half later to help break down the table. It had been a pretty successful endeavor, if you did say so yourself, as there were only a handful of treats left, which you and Kun offered to a group of high schoolers who came by after break-down.

With everything packed up except the cash drawer, Kun turned to you with finality, “I’ve just got to drop this off with the front office and that’ll be it. Thanks, Y/N. You and Woobin were a big help today.”

“Of course. Sorry about that parent who skipped out on you. Who was it, anyway?”

“A… Mr. Nakamoto?” Kun read off the paper. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“I think I’ve chatted with him in the lobby a couple times. His son’s in the two-year-old class if I remember correctly?” You strained your memory, then gave up. “Oh, whatever. Maybe he just had an emergency or something.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

“Anyway, have a goodnight, Kun, Junyi,” you nodded to the two of them, then squeezed your son’s hand. “Binnie, we’re leaving, do you want to say something to Junyi and Mr. Qian?”

Your son perked up, giving the two of them a bright smile and big wave, “Goodbye!”

“Junyi?” Kun prompted his son from where he was tucked into the father’s chest. “Tell Ms. Y/L/N and Woobin goodbye, you won’t see Woobin until Monday.”

“Bye, Woobin. Bye… Ms. Y/L/N.” Junyi said in between yawns, rubbing at his eyes. Poor guy seemed absolutely tuckered out.

“Goodnight,” Kun gave you one last nod before heading towards the school, and you and Woobin took off towards your car.

Monday morning you released Woobin’s hand to let him scamper into his classroom, giving Ms. Xu a wave of acknowledgement as you signed the morning drop-off sheet by the door. You were about to take off for work when a hand grabbed your elbow, and you hadn’t even realized that Ms. Xu had approached you, all too focused on heading to work.

“Ms. Y/N!”

“Ah, Ms. Xu, good morning,” you greeted her. “Is something the matter?”

“No, I just wanted to thank you for pitching in with the Bake Sale on Saturday. Mr. Qian informed us that he wouldn’t have been able to pull it off without your help.”

You looked around for Kun. You were only able to spot Junyi, however, coloring with Woobin at a table. Seems like he’d already come and gone. Great, now you had a reputation for being a helpful mom.

You shook off both her hand and her praise, “Oh, really Mr. Qian is exaggerating. He works in sales, did you know? Honestly didn’t need my help.”

“Well, whatever you two did, it was our most successful Bake Sale—well, any kind of fundraising event—for the preschool ever! And, we were wondering if the two of you would consider getting more involved in some parent leadership positions at the school? The preschool PTA have been trying to get a fundraising committee off the ground, and we really think that you two would do a fantastic job spearheading—”

You must have had some kind of look on your face, as Ms. Xu suddenly stopped dead in the middle of her sentence, entirely switching trains of thought. Keeping her same peppy tone and bright, hopeful smile, she said, “I am so sorry to have thrown so much at you. You must have to be getting to work. Why don’t we talk about it later when you come pick Woobin up? All of us, Mr. Qian, too. Goodbye, Ms. Y/N!”

And with that you were ushered out of the door, utterly dumbfounded at what had just happened.

That afternoon, you squared your shoulders and steeled your nerves as you approached the preschool doors. You had to keep your resolution firm: you were absolutely not going to be joining any sort of PTA, fundraising committee, or parent leadership position. The only thing that you were going to be spearheading was cracking open the bottle of wine that was waiting for you at your apartment tonight.

You were a little earlier than you usually were for pick-up, which you had done on purpose, needing to clear the air with a certain Mr. Qian Kun. Immediately homing in on the man, you made a beeline for him. He noticed you, his friendly hand falling as he seemed to notice the set of your brow.

“Good afternoon, Y—”

“Qian Kun,” you cut him off sternly. “Do you care to tell me why I was voluntold for a position spearheading a fundraising committee this morning?”

“Oh, that. Look, it came as a surprise to me too,” he tried to assuage you.

“Why the hell did my name even come out of your mouth in such a discussion in the first place?”

“Because they were praising me on how well the Bake Sale went, and I was making sure you got the credit that you deserved too. Are you upset about that? If so, I’m sorry? I guess?”

“You listen to the words coming out of my mouth: I will be a PTA mom over your dead body,” you hissed, scooching in to take the spot on the bench beside him and free up more standing space for the parents coming in.

“Okay, let’s take a step back from the threats, maybe, Y/N,” Kun suggested, holding his hands up in both a defensive and ‘are you kidding me?’ gesture. “What’s so awful about being a PTA parent in the first place?”

“Free labor for so little reward, and I don’t have the time for that. Do you?”

“We haven’t even heard their proposal; we don’t know what they’d be wanting us to do.”

“‘Spearheading a committee’ sounds like a part-time job at least.”

“Alright, well, didn’t Ms. Xu tell you that you and I held the most successful fundraising event the preschool’s ever had? And that wasn’t even with us making a concerted effort, either, that was just some random mid-grade effort Bake Sale. Imagine what we could do if we really go for it.”

“You work in sales, huh?” You deadpanned after his little pitch was finished. The one-year-old class opened for dismissal, and you leaned in towards him to continue your fervent conversation in a more hushed voice, “And can’t even realize when you’re the one being sold to! You do know that this campus has a bunch of filthy rich donors, right? They’re not hard pressed for cash, they just give the high school priority, then the middle school, primary, and the preschool gets the leftovers—if there’s even any—forcing it to have to fundraise for itself.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason to do this, then?” Kun pushed back.

“We could do a hundred Bake Sales and it wouldn’t make up the difference between the scraps the preschool gets and the millions that the high school does. No, it would be all the more reason for us to go find our own filthy rich donor who would put a stipulation on their donation for it to be used exclusively for the preschool.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve got to think bigger about this, Kun,” you knocked on his forehead with two of your knuckles as best you could in the narrow space between the two of you. “God. You said you work in sales, what do you even do?”

He rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly, red tinging the tips of his ears, “Would you believe me if I said I’m a Director of Sales?”

“No,” you snorted.

“That’s fair.”

“So anyway, glad we’re on the same page about saying no to this.” You went to lean away from him and put some pep back into your tone, watching as the two-year-old class was dismissed next.

“What? I—” he looked around, it was only the three-year-old parents left in the lobby now. You sighed, scooting back over to sit shoulder-to-shoulder again for him to be able to continue in a hushed voice, “I thought we were going to find a donor for the preschool.”

“You want us to go in there, and say yes to leading the preschool PTA’s fundraising committee on the condition that its sole mission is to stage a coup within the financial hierarchy of the campus?”

“Okay well when you say it like that—”

“I’m in.” You grinned at him. “As long as you were being serious about the Director of Sales thing.”

“I was,” he fished out a business card from his wallet to hand to you.

Qian Kun, Director of Sales, WeiShen, Inc.

And below that was his email, office phone line, and fax number. You gave it back to him.

“Perfect. Those connections will come in handy.”

The door to the three-year-old classroom swung open just then, and you got to your feet.

“Alright, Mr. Qian, ready to go start the cutest coup the world has ever seen?” You offered your hand to him.

He stood up alongside you, giving your hand a firm shake, “Yes, absolutely, Ms. Y/L/N. They’ll never know what hit them.”

While Mrs. Chen and Ms. Xu were definitely caught off-guard by your idea, after getting over their initial shock, they were surprisingly on-board with it. They requested that you two bring in a more formal proposal to the next preschool PTA meeting— next Wednesday. That gave you nine days.

“So how did you know all that, about the donors and distribution structure of the funds?” Kun asked as you walked out into the empty preschool lobby.

“I did my research before picking a preschool for Woobin. It’s all there on the Internet if you dig deep enough, and are somewhat adept at reading through the legal bull—” You cut yourself off, looking down at the two toddlers with you. Kun pushed the front door open for you, and you quietly thanked him as you led Woobin through it before resuming your train of thought, “It’s obviously not in any of the advertising stuff for prospective parents, but for prospective donors, investors; the corporate materials.”

The four of you stopped in front of the building, where the small parking lot was.

“So then why did you enroll him here, even knowing about how they treat the preschool with the donations?”

“The high school is the best in the area, and the easiest way to guarantee admission is to graduate in from their middle school. Easiest way to get into the middle school is to graduate in from the primary school.”

“And the easiest way into the primary school is through the preschool,” the dad surmised.

“Bingo. I’m keeping Binnie’s options open,” you squeezed your son’s hand affectionately. “He doesn’t have to go there, but I’m making sure he can if he wants.”

Kun’s eyebrows shot up, “Wow. That’s some really forward thinking.”

You tilted your head curiously, “So why’d you choose to send Junyi here?”

“It was the closest to my place.”

“Practical, that’s more than fair.”

“Speaking of, Junyi and I should get going, we have to pick up a couple things from the store for dinner tonight and buddy already looks like he’s not going to last the two block walk there.” He looked down at his son, who was very quiet, glassy eyes fixed on his feet.

You nodded in understanding, “Of course, Binnie and I have a wine night planned.”

“I’m sorry, a what?”

“Oh, Binnie gets grape juice and I have red wine in matching cups. He likes to feel included.”

“Does he get a matching kiddie charcuterie board too?” Kun chuckled to himself as he hoisted Junyi up onto his hip.

“No, he just takes what he wants off of mine.”

He gave you a blank stare, “I can’t tell if you’re pulling my leg or not.”

“Look, he insists on trying whatever I have, and he ends up liking a lot of it,” you shrugged. “He’s the only 3-year-old I know who asks for tapenade as a snack.”

“You’re being serious?” He checked again.

“Yes,” you laughed. Then, before you knew it, the next words coming out of your mouth were, “You know, you and Junyi should join Binnie and I for a charcuterie night. I’ll prepare actual kid-friendly stuff, too, for Junyi.”

Kun’s head jerked back just the slightest, and he blinked a couple times before asking, “Uh, just you and Woobin?”

“Yeah, is— Would that, uh, be a problem?” The offer had felt perfectly normal and natural for you to make in the moment, but his reaction was making you second guess and stammer. You rushed to tack on, “We can— It’ll be for the fundraising committee, you know.”

“Right, right, of course.” His voice was filled with shaky relief.

“Of course,” you echoed, offering a strained smile.

“As long as that’s not a problem for—for you.”

“Why would it be a problem for me? I invited you.”

“I don’t— That sounds great, thank you, Y/N.”

Desperately wanting to get out of the plane crash that you had inadvertently taken this conversation into, you readjusted your purse on your shoulder decidedly, “Of course. Uhm, well, we won’t hold you two up from the store anymore, it looks like Junyi’s about to fall asleep on you right now. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kun looked down at Junyi’s head that had been resting against his chest, the boy’s eyes beginning to flutter shut, “Oh, God, there he goes. Bye, Y/N, Woobin!”

And the man was around the corner before Woobin could even lift his little hand to wave.

“So what’s the big deal, Y/N?”

“Well because I feel stupid now, Sooyoung,” you ranted to your friend over the phone that night as you washed up the dishes from dinner. “It felt like I was maybe finally getting my first like, parent friend, you know? And then he got all weird as soon as I invited him to hang out. I wasn’t being weird, was I? It was practically a playdate invite!”

Woobin had been put to bed a few minutes ago, and you were recounting the horrible nosedive that your conversation with Kun had taken, needing to know that you weren’t crazy.

“Y/N…” Sooyoung’s voice was patient as it came through your speakers. “Now, I can only guess, because I am, as we know, not a parent friend. But… is he married?”

“Huh?” The plate in your hand nearly slipped out of your soapy grip.

“Wedding ring, seen one?”

You wracked your brain, trying to remember if you’d ever really looked at Kun’s hands that closely, “Uh, not that I can remember?”

“Okay. You ever met the mom?”

“No, it’s always Kun who picks Junyi up.”

“Has a mom or another parent or partner ever been mentioned at all?”

“Sooyoung, the point,” you requested sternly, having a sneaking suspicion as to what it was.

“I’m just saying, maybe he got all weird because he thought you were flirting.”

“Oh my God,” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair before realizing that it was still soapy. “God damn it!”

“Y/N?”

You grabbed some paper towels to clean the suds off your head, “Yeah, still here, sorry.”

“Anyway… is he cute?”

“SooSoo, I don’t even think I could flirt on purpose at this point,” you chuckled cynically, going back to your chore. “That muscle’s long shriveled up. I just need to time skip to being married with two kids, I think.”

Your friend laughed along with you, “Fair. But, that doesn’t sound like a no. Kinda sounds like avoiding the question, actually.”

“Sooyoung.”

“Ooh, you gonna send me to my room?” She taunted you, and you could hear her pout through the phone. “Put me in time out?”

“You’d like that, you little freak,” you snickered, picking up your next dish.

That Saturday afternoon you and Woobin had welcomed Kun and Junyi into your apartment with giddy nerves. Woobin was excited, and you were excited for him. This would be pretty much his first playdate with a kid that he wasn’t related to. And you had all the nerves, as this was your first time having a parent friend over, too. Not to mention that Sooyoung’s words were still bouncing around in the back of your head. When Kun held out a bottle of red wine to you with his left hand, you looked extra hard at his fingers— yep, no ring.

“Oh, Kun, you didn’t have to,” you took it from him gladly, ushering the two of them further into your home.

“You’re hosting and making us a charcuterie board. I figured wine was appropriate,” he explained.

“Well, thank you. This is perfect.”

Woobin was right where you’d left him in the living room on his playmat among his toys.

“Binnie,” you said, waiting until he looked up at you before continuing, “Mr. Qian and Junyi are here, so we’re going to eat now, remember?”

He nodded, immediately standing up and beginning to shovel toys off to one side of his mat. You helped him slide the mat to the corner of the room.

“Uh, we’re just going to eat around the coffee table, if that’s alright,” you explained, gesturing to the cleared table in the middle of the living room.

“Yeah, of course,” Kun nodded.

“Great, great. Dining table kind of has a partially built LEGO set on it right now,” you chuckled as you set the wine bottle down. “I’m going to grab everything from the kitchen, be back in a second.”

“Oh, I’ll help.”

“No, that’s okay, I’ve already got a little helper,” you held a hand out expectantly towards your son. Woobin immediately grabbed your hand, looking up at you. You gave Kun a quick smile, “Be back in a sec.”

In the kitchen, you handed Woobin his spill-proof cup, then another for Junyi. You fit two wine glasses by the stems and a corkscrew in one hand, and grabbed the charcuterie board with the other. Gently nudging your toddler ahead of you, the two of you headed back out to the living room, where your guests were waiting.

Kun and Junyi had sat down on one side of the table, and you gently placed the food down in front of them, then one wine glass in front of Kun. You looked to your son, who handed the correct cup to Junyi.

“It’s just water,” you informed the dad. “We have juice too, if he can have it. I never know about allergies and the like so I didn’t want to assume.”

“Juice?” Woobin looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Yours is already grape juice, Binnie,” you informed him with a head pat.

Kun rubbed his son’s back, “Water’s fine for him, he had a juice box this morning. Thanks.”

You and Woobin sat opposite from the father and son, Woobin immediately clambering into your lap. As you went to uncork the wine, Kun looked over the board in front of you all. You had made sure to prepare some kid-friendly options in one corner in addition to your usual refined spread.

“This all looks fantastic, Y/N. Thank you, seriously,” Kun smiled, and you swore that was the first time you’d noticed a deep dimple appear on both of his cheeks.

You poured first for him, then yourself, “Of course. Thank you two for coming over, Woobin and I were both excited to host for someone. Right, Binnie?”

“What, Mommy?” Woobin looked up at you with a scrunched nose.

“‘Host.’” You repeated the unfamiliar word for him, then clarified your question, “Are you excited to have Junyi and Mr. Qian over?”

“Oh! Yes!” He nodded his head so fast you could feel the rest of his little body shake in your lap. “Can I show Junyi my room, Mommy?”

“After you two eat some, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Did you hear that, Junyi? After you eat, you and Woobin can play.” Kun gently prodded his son, then looked up at you apologetically when all the child did was yawn. “Sorry, he just woke up from a nap before coming over.”

“That’s okay,” you giggled, cutting off a piece of cheese and pressing it onto a cracker, then making another serving of the same cheese and cracker. You handed one to Woobin, keeping the other for yourself.

Woobin eagerly took a bite of the cheese and cracker you’d given him, washing it down with his grape juice.

Kun offered a bear-shaped cookie out to Junyi, who shook his head. The dad sighed, and pointed at a banana slice, then blueberry, then cheddar cheese slice that you’d cut into small star shapes. They all got head shakes.

“Are you hungry at all, buddy?”

“Yes!”

“Then what do you want? Ms. Y/L/N made sure to put out all that food just for you. I don’t think you want what Daddy is eating, buddy. It’s grown-up food.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, unsure of if you should speak up. It seemed like they both needed help, but you weren’t one to try to interject your own parenting if it wasn’t asked for.

Junyi squirmed in his dad’s arms for a moment before mumbling, “But Woobin’s eating it…”

Meanwhile Woobin had in fact helped himself to a kalamata olive, pre-pitted, happily munching away.

Kun seemed at a loss, rubbing at his brow, and you finally decided to jump in.

“Junyi, you can try some, too,” you told him encouragingly, leaning forward and reaching over the board. “Do you want to try the cheese Woobin was eating or the olive he just had? Or both?”

“Cheese, please.”

You cut off a small piece of the gouda, “Here you go.”

He took it in his small hands, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

You watched in amusement as Junyi ate the cheese, his features lighting up.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes! Can I try the olive?”

“Hey…” Kun’s voice held a slight warning as he pinched his son’s side.

“Can I try the olive please?”

“Thank you.” The dad patted the boy’s head before reaching around him for the glass of wine on the table.

You handed him an olive, both you and Kun watching with interest as he popped it into his mouth whole. Junyi’s face immediately screwed up in disgust. Without missing a beat, Kun held up a cupped palm with another short sigh, letting his son spit the food back out. Trying to hold back your giggles, you handed the dad a napkin.

“Thanks,” he accepted it, depositing the olive into the paper, and wiping his hand off.

After some more broadening of Junyi’s horizons—to mixed results—the board was mostly clear, and the kids had declared themselves full.

“Can I show Junyi my room now?” Woobin asked excitedly.

“Sure, Binnie. You two can go play,” you nodded, and he immediately scrambled off your lap. You held out a hand for him to use to balance himself as you kept talking, “Mr. Qian and I have some work to do, so we’ll be in here if you need us, okay?”

“Okay!” Both toddlers said in unison.

“Hey, look here,” Kun stopped his son before he could leave the room. The father waited until the boy was looking him in the eye before continuing, “Remember what we talked about before coming over? All week?”

Junyi nodded fervently.

“Good. Go have fun, buddy,” he ruffled his son's hair.

You watched the two of them speedwalk out excitedly, Woobin explaining the house rule of not being allowed to run because it’s not safe as they went.

Then it was just you and Kun. Sooyoung’s words echoed in the back of your mind.

“Alright, let me grab my laptop, then we can get to work,” you declared, getting to your feet.

A few hours later and the two of you had made good progress, only interrupted by the kids a few times here and there, mostly them wanting to show off toys or coloring pages, or Junyi had wandered in at one point seemingly just to make sure Kun was still there.

You had been adding something to your word document of notes when you realized that your house had been eerily quiet for too long. Fingertips hovering over the keys, you exchanged a suspicious look with Kun.

“Too quiet?” He asked knowingly.

“Yeah…” You frowned, setting your computer aside to get up.

Both of you treaded through your home until you got to Woobin’s bedroom. The door was open, and you were alarmed for a moment when you didn’t see either boy anywhere on the floor playing. Until you recognized two lumps under the covers of his toddler bed, Woobin and Junyi looking like they were going to sleep for the next hundred years or so.

“Oh, god, I am so sorry,” Kun shook his head, seeming about to go in there and grab his son.

You were between him and the room, however, and quickly turned the lights off and shut the door. “It’s okay, Kun. They just tuckered themselves out. That’s good.”

Latching onto his elbow, you pulled him back towards the living room, catching a glance at the time on the microwave as you went through the kitchen.

“Damn, it’s not even Binnie’s normal bedtime yet,” you chuckled.

You didn’t let go of Kun until you had pulled him back down onto the couch, and then held his (second) glass of wine back out to him pointedly. He had a fond smile as he took it from you, and you happily accepted your victory as you picked yours back up too. You left your laptop on the coffee table, shifting to entirely face Kun as you raised your glass to your lips.

Kun took a sip.

You took a sip.

“Do you want to ask me something, Y/N?” Kun scratched the back of his neck.

“Mm, sorry,” you apologized with a chuckle. “I zoned out on your face there, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, a bit,” he laughed.

“I was thinking, though.”

“What about?”

“You’re a Director of Sales…”

“Supposedly.”

“Supposedly,” you repeatedly humorously before moving on with your question. “Do you think we’ve got a good chance at getting a donor for the preschool? If our proposal is approved by the PTA on Wednesday, of course.”

You had expected some kind of business musings, or serious answer from Kun, but instead you watched with concern as his brow furrowed, his fingers drummed along his knee, and he suddenly became fidgety, shifting around in his seat. He stayed quiet, once again scratching at the back of his neck, squinting one eye closed, then the other.

“Kun?” You said his name hesitantly.

“Sorry,” he shot you a familiar, frazzled smile that reminded you of when he was getting overwhelmed at the Bake Sale booth by himself. “I uhm, I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” you reassured him. “I was just curious, it’s not life or death that you know everything all the time.”

He didn’t even seem to hear you as he stood up, setting his wine glass down on the table. The dad began pacing back and forth in front of your couch, his hands laced together behind his neck.

“I’m good at my job.”

You would’ve sworn he wasn’t talking to you, except his wide, stressed eyes snapped up to you after he said that.

“I’m not your boss. You don’t need to convince me, Kun,” you said slowly.

“I know, just— with all this, it’s stuff that I should be good at, it’s right up my alley. But it’s for Junyi, and I want to be the best dad I can be for him that I just end up jumping into doing things without actually thinking about them first because other people are telling me that’s what I need to do to be a good dad. I know how to be a good Director of Sales. I don’t know how to be a good dad.”

“You don’t need to know everything,” you reiterated strongly, hoping he actually listened this time. “I don’t know all the secrets for being a good mom. I just know how to be Woobin’s mom. You don’t need to know all the secrets to being the best dad ever. The only thing you need to worry about is being Junyi’s dad. Does that seem a bit more manageable?”

Kun’s pacing slowed to a stop in front of you, “Well, I guess.”

“So, the next time somebody is trying to sell you on some ‘Dad Thing,’ stop, breathe, and think: Is this what I, Qian Kun, as Junyi’s dad, need to do, to be?”

“Okay…” he looked at you skeptically, closing his eyes for a moment. You watched as his shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.

“…Are you doing it right now?”

“Well how else am I supposed to decide if this is a good thing to do or not?”

You let out a hearty laugh, “No, that’s perfect, Kun, go ahead.”

He closed his eyes again, and you watched with fond amusement as his eyebrows quirked up and down with his thoughts. You took another sip of your wine before he had finished, and he opened his eyes once more, giving you a firm nod, “Okay, yes, I think that’s a thing that Junyi would need me to do.”

“Great,” you smiled at him, tilting your wine glass out to him.

He picked his back up and clinked it to yours in a little cheers. You tipped the remainder of your drink back in one go.

“Oh, that was good,” you declared. “Thanks, Kun.”

“Of course, Y/N. Thank you for inviting us.”

“Like I said, Binnie and I were both really excited to host,” you took your empty glass into the kitchen to start cleaning up. “I don’t know if this is bad, but he hasn’t really had a lot of play dates that weren’t like his cousins or something.”

“Junyi neither,” Kun admitted.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” You asked, starting to stack the plates. “Kid, and work, and family, and friends, and everything else. And then you’re supposed to be in charge of your kid’s social life too?”

You’d turned your back on him to bring the plates into the kitchen, expecting to hear his response to your question, but you were just met with silence. After depositing the dishes in the kitchen, you walked back out to the living room, alarmed to see that Kun had taken to pacing again.

Keeping a calm demeanor yourself, you kept going about your task, grabbing the charcuterie board, the last thing that needed to be tidied up. You had just started back towards the kitchen when Kun broke his silence.

“Junyi’s mother left us.”

You were so glad you had your back to Kun so he couldn’t see your rueful wince. Oh, you were so going to regret this.

Relaxing your features into a more sympathetic frown, you turned around to face him, “I’m very sorry to hear that, Kun.”

This was going to be a lot, you could sense it, so you set the charcuterie board back down on your breakfast bar.

“So just know that however hard it is for you and Woobin’s dad, it’s like ten times harder for me, and that’s why I’m always—”

You had stopped listening to him, however, your brain turning to white noise after the phrase ‘Woobin’s dad.’

“Wait, do you think I’m married?” You blurted out over him.

“Well, no, I can see that you don’t have a ring,” Kun gestured down to your hands. “But a boyfriend or another significant other. I’m doing this solo and—”

“I’m a single parent too!”

“What?” He seemed dumbfounded.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to laugh or cry more at how ridiculous this was.

“Woobin’s dad was a one-night stand! I can’t remember the guy’s name, or what he looks like. Couldn’t find him if I wanted to. I don’t have a partner now, either. What on Earth made you think I was anything other than a single mom? You’re in my home!” You gestured around wildly to where there were multiple pictures of your family, of you and Woobin, but none of you, Woobin, and any man that could reasonably be considered his father.

“Well you’re just— you’ve got— at the meeting— you’re so put together,” Kun stammered out, his voice getting smaller and smaller. He ran a hand through his hair, “You’re not falling apart at the seams like I am.”

“Kun.” You grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping his frenzied pacing. “Look me in the eye.”

It wasn’t really like he had a choice, you were now holding his face just a couple inches from yours, but he still followed your command.

“Good,” you praised him, keeping your voice soothing. “I want you to take three deep breaths with me.”

He followed along as you inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, and finally exhaled again together.

“Alright, thank you,” your voice was still sweet and calm as you ran your hands back down to his shoulders. “Now… why the fuck do you think I am more put together than you, Qian Kun?”

“Everything,” he breathed out, hanging his head.

“God, Kun,” you sighed, seizing him by the wrist. “Come on.”

You led him into your dining room, where there was in fact a half-built LEGO set on your dining room table. But that wasn’t your goal. On the bookshelf in there, you grabbed a specific picture frame, and took it and Kun back to the living room.

Sitting down side-by-side with Kun on the couch, you held the picture out in front of the two of you. It was of you and Woobin just over three years ago now, the first night you came home from the hospital. Your mother had taken it. He was swaddled in his baby blue blanket, all chubby cheeks, and you looked dead tired, but an excited sparkle was still in your eyes as you grinned down at your son.

“Look, Kun. I used to feel like that too. All the time. Almost every day when I was pregnant,” you relayed to him.

“But not anymore?” He questioned hesitantly.

“Sometimes. But not like before. Because I realized that I’m not doing this by myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I may be a single mom, but I’m not alone, I have Binnie. And isn’t that the whole point? To be there for them? To make sure they know they’re not doing it alone either?”

Kun was quiet, his eyes still focused on the picture.

You continued, “I’m lucky enough to have my parents as a good support system, and some friends I can call up in case of emergency too. But I remember when I found out I was going to have Woobin, and I decided to keep him, I was scared of doing it by myself. Terrified, might be a better word.”

“When I came home from the hospital with him, my mom stayed with us for the first couple weeks.” You tapped the frame. “And the first night after she left, when it really was just the two of us, I was expecting this overwhelming sense of loneliness, and instead I just felt… full. I know I had all those birthing hormones in me, oxytocin and whatnot, but I looked down at him and I realized I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t ever going to be in all this because I have Binnie.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that,” Kun finally spoke again.

Thinking about your cousin’s approach to parenting, you guessed, “You’ve always thought about him as the adversary?”

“Not exactly. Junyi’s more like a tiny roommate that I have to dress and feed and keep from accidentally dying.”

“I’d love to see pizza and beer night at your place.” You joked, laughing when you managed to get a small smile out of Kun again. “Does Junyi get his in a sippy?”

“You jest, but I have poured myself two fingers of whiskey into a Winnie the Pooh sippy cup before because it was the only clean drinking vessel we had.” He rubbed at his temples, then clarified, “With the lid off.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” You patted his back, reaching across him to set the frame down on the side table by another one that was displayed there.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Kun’s eyes followed you as you sat back down, suddenly much closer than you remembered being before. Or were you just more aware of your proximity?

He patted your knee. “Seriously, that made me feel a lot better.”

“Of—” You cleared your throat to get rid of the squeak that was now in your voice. “Of course.”

Your skin tingled. Holy shit, you’d only had two glasses of wine spread across several hours, there was no way you should even be remotely buzzed. Kun was still looking at you. Were his eyes always this dark, this inviting?

God, he really was handsome. You’d always known that, thought that, since the moment you saw him in the lobby of the preschool. But something about now, having him in your home, so close, alone, you felt like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He wet his lips seemingly instinctually, and for a moment your brain short-circuited.

“Daddy?” A small voice made both you and Kun jump in your seats. You bit your tongue in surprise, hissing in pain as you and the dad simultaneously scooted away from each other. Junyi was standing at the threshold of the living room, rubbing one of his eyes sleepily.

“Hey, buddy.” Kun waved his son over with a smile. “Is everything okay?”

Junyi walked over, stopping in front of his dad, a small pout on his face. “I woke up and didn’t see you...”

“Oh, buddy,” Kun rubbed the toddler’s back. “Sounds like it’s about time for us to go home, huh?”

You smiled at the both of them, hoping they couldn’t see how frazzled you felt through it. “Of course, it’s late. I think we’re uh, we’re all tired. Junyi, is Woobin awake?”

The boy shook his head no.

“Okay, thank you.” You stood up, grabbing the wine glasses as Kun picked his son up.

You sent them off with a quick goodbye at your front door, and let out a deep sigh of relief once you’d closed it behind them. There weren’t many dishes to take care of in the kitchen, but you still took your time scrubbing at them, then tiptoed down the hall to check in on your son. He was in fact sound asleep, and you quietly went to retire in your own room for the night.

Except once you were in your own bed, sleep didn’t find you easy. You still saw Kun whether your eyes were open or closed, and you could feel the ghost of his warm hand on your skin. You rolled over into the center of the empty expanse of your bed, burying your face in your pillow, and let out a groan. You so needed to get laid. That’s all this was, you had set aside your own needs for your family’s and as soon as you saw one attractive guy, you couldn’t function. There were more important things to focus on with Kun, like the fundraising.

And so you went to sleep with thoughts of spreadsheets, Kun’s dark eyes, numbers, Kun’s warm hands on you, fundraising pitches, and Qian Kun running through your mind.

The fundraising pitch was a hit. Yours and Kun’s PTA committee was approved at the very same meeting, and you two were made co-directors effective immediately.

Afterwards, you, Kun, Woobin, and Junyi all walked out together, and while Kun seemed to be basking in the exhilaration of success, you were shell-shocked with a harrowing realization.

“Y/N?” Kun gently touched your arm, voice tinged with concern.

You looked up at him, horrified. “I’m a PTA mom now, aren’t I?”

He seemed to be holding back his laughter as he patted your shoulder. “I think you are. My condolences. Please don’t kill me.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can dispose of my co-director so easily now.”

He was grinning at you. “Ah, didn’t realize that title came with such high protections.”

You rolled your eyes, but found your mood lifting anyway. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, you mentioned that you had something exciting, but only if we got approval?”

“Right!” Kun let go of Junyi’s hand to reach into the interior pocket of his suit jacket. He retrieved a crisp cream envelope, about the size of his hand. His name was embossed on the front of it in gold lettering.

You looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “You got a wedding invite?”

“Close.” He opened the envelope, holding out the contents to you. You set Woobin down, murmuring a quiet request for him to stay by you all so you could take the card in both your hands. The front of the card had an unfamiliar crest on it, and you opened it to read the inside.

‘The United Publishing Society is honored to invite Mr. Qian Kun and a guest to their 89th Annual Benefactor Gala’

And below that was the date, time, location, and dress code. Black tie formal.

“A fancy networking event?” You questioned, handing it back to him.

“No,” he shook his head very seriously. “These are all the old industry bigwigs who want to get together without all that schmoozy networking and ladder-climbing stuff going on. You and I are probably going to be the youngest ones there by a couple decades.”

“Wait you and me?”

“Yep. ‘Mr. Qian Kun and a guest.’” He recited off the invite. “You’re my guest.”

“Uhm...”

“I happen to know that one of the guys attending is also on the board of a non-profit that donates exclusively to children’s causes. Building pediatric cancer centers, juvenile intervention centers, the whole nine. I think he’ll be our best bet for a donor.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “But you just said they want to get together without networking and all that kind of stuff. Why would we be any different?”

“It’s a charity gala, they’re already there to write checks anyway. We’re not going to be asking him for a job.”

It’s not you were exactly overflowing with any options. “When was that again?”

“What do we think?” You did a spin for your small audience of Woobin and Sooyoung. “Good enough for black tie formal?”

Tonight was the night of the gala Kun was taking you along to, and you sort of felt like you were going to throw up. And pass out. In that order. First of all, you had never been to a gala, you couldn’t remember if you had ever gone to something with a black tie formal dress code (you literally had to go out and buy this outfit), not to mention that you felt awful for having to ask your friend to babysit. But unfortunately your parents were out of town and all of your normal babysitters were busy. Sooyoung had already let you (jokingly) know that this was under duress, and that you owed her—despite turning down the money you offered her.

Sooyoung wolf-whistled at you, and you gave her a pointed look. Not the example you wanted to set for your son. Woobin looked up from his toys at the sound, and clapped for you.

“You look great, Y/N!” Your friend reassured you, and you were thankful that she reigned her mouth in around your kid. Typically, you would’ve gotten a much more explicit compliment from her. “Should be good for black tie. I mean, it’s not like you have any other option, right?”

“Right...” You groaned, turning back towards your room. “Hold on, let me put the shoes on so you can see those.”

You were sitting on your bed pulling your shoes on when you heard your doorbell ring. Your stomach dropped as you looked over at the time on your bedside clock. Shit, Kun was early. You should’ve anticipated that from the last time he was here.

“Soo! Can you get the door? I’m still putting my shoes on!” You yelled out through the apartment.

“Yep!” She called back.

You could vaguely hear the muffled voices of Sooyoung and Kun—and even Woobin at one point—but you were too focused on tugging your goddamn shoes on to care much about what they were saying. Just as you were finally standing up and straightening out your outfit, Sooyoung speedwalked into your bedroom, Woobin in her arms.

She had a smile filled with devilish delight on her face as she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to you, “That is Kun?”

“Huh? Yeah? Unless you let some strange man into my home that I don’t know,” you replied, bewildered. “Should I have asked you to ID him?”

“I take back everything I said, you stay out as long as you want tonight. All night even,” she suggested, gesturing wildly with one hand as the other kept your toddler propped up on her hip. She pinched his cheek fondly. “BinBin and I can have a sleepover, right, buddy?”

Your son’s face lit up with delight at the prospect. “Sleepover?!”

Well aware of what your friend was implying, you did your best to regulate your outer emotions and intonation as you addressed your kid. You kept your tone kind but firm, “No, Binnie, I’m sorry.” Focusing your gaze on your friend, you added pointedly, “Nobody’s having a sleepover tonight.”

“Y/N, come on. You’ve never denied yourself the finer things in life since becoming a mom. Why are you insisting on starting now?” Sooyoung sighed.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a gala to attend. For the fundraising committee I’m on.”

Walking through your apartment, you grabbed your purse from your dining room and finally found Kun in the foyer just a few steps from the front door. He was looking at a photo you had up on the wall, his back to you, so all you could see was his brown hair and dark suit.

“Hi, Kun!” You hoped you didn’t sound out of breath as you entered the room. Judging by the sound of footsteps behind you, Sooyoung had followed you in to see you off for the night.

Kun turned around at his name, hands clasped behind his back. He was dressed rather handsomely for the night in a tux with his hair neatly parted away from his face. But it was the starstruck smile on his face that made your skin warm up as he stopped in his tracks, just looking at you.

“Kun? You good?” You coughed awkwardly, well aware of your spectators.

“Sorry, sorry. Hello, Y/N.” He blinked and shook his head, stepping forward all the way to stand in front of you.

“You’ve already met my friend Sooyoung. She’s watching Woobin tonight for me.” You gestured to the two of them.

“So you two can take as long as you need!” She piped up oh-so-helpfully.

You turned to look at her with wide, pointed eyes.

“You know, chatting people up for your fundraising, or whatever,” she tacked on innocently.

“Thank you, SooSoo. I’ll see you later.” You pecked your son on the forehead. “Goodnight, Binnie. Remember, Mommy will be back late so Aunt SooSoo is going to put you to bed, and you and me are going to eat breakfast together, okay?”

“But Aunt SooSoo said I was having a sleepover with her?”

“Aunt SooSoo was just joking, baby. I’m sorry, no sleepovers tonight,” you informed him with a heavy heart. Sooyoung set him down, and he toddled off towards the living room. Your friend went to follow him, and you grabbed her elbow to lean in to hiss in her ear, “I hope you’re happy, you owe Binnie a sleepover now.”

“And he’ll get one,” she whispered back. “As soon as you have one of your own.”

You shot her one final glare that she just retaliated with a wink, before letting her go and striding back over to Kun, who was waiting patiently by the front door.

“Everything okay?” He asked, concern on his features.

“Yeah, just making sure she knows Binnie's bedtime and to not give him any more juice.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “All good.”

“Good. You ready, then?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess.”

You so were not ready, it turned out. Just a few minutes after arriving, milling around and taking in the grandeur of the ballroom with Kun, you were starting to feel dizzy. Kun had already seen a couple of people that he must have known, flashing them a charismatic smile and exchanging passing greetings. You, meanwhile, felt like a weight was pressing on your chest, and inhaled deeply through your nose to try to calm down.

“Woah, are you okay, Y/N?” Kun leaned in to ask you quietly.

“Yeah, fine,” you lied through your teeth. “Why?”

“You’ve got a death grip on my arm that you didn’t have thirty seconds ago.” He patted your hand that was on his upper arm.

Looking down, you saw that his suit jacket was crumpled in your fingers, and you consciously tried to loosen your grip, but couldn’t make yourself do it. Instead, you just stared at your locked hand.

“I’m a copy editor, Kun, I don’t really go to galas on the daily, so pardon me for being a little out of my element here,” you retorted, the words cutting through the air much harsher than you had intended. Taking another deep inhale and exhale, you added a whispered, “Sorry, sorry.”

“Come on, let’s get some air, hm?”

The gala had an outdoor area devoid of other guests, presumably due to the chilly nighttime air. Kun sat you down on a stone bench outside of the main courtyard area, out of sight from the large windows of the ballroom.

The pressure on your chest was gone, and with you breathing easier, the cynical, nervous thoughts could finally take center stage in your brain.

“God, this isn’t going to work! Why did we even come out here?” You cracked your knuckles anxiously. “How do we even ask for money without just sounding like children? ‘It’s not fair!’”

“If we find the right donor—and don’t use that tone of voice—that argument is actually going to be what resonates with them,” Kun responded calmly, standing in front of you with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “Someone that cares about the kids, not about investing in an institution or whatever, will be moved by the fact that the preschool is being neglected financially.”

You chewed on the bottom of your lip. “Well damn, when you put it like that, I may just believe that you’re a Director of Sales, Qian Kun.”

“I thought the business card had convinced you.”

“Anybody can order a business card that says whatever they want.”

“That would’ve been extensive planning on my part.”

“Hey, you could’ve had it on hand to pick up women. There’s guys that do that.”

He seemed genuinely put-off and bewildered. “Wait really? That’s… That is just… loser behavior.”

“Though the fax number did point to it being real,” you continued, finally cracking a smile. “Dudes doing pick-up probably think it makes them look dorky.”

“What? People aren’t sexting via fax these days?” Kun joked, a grin tugging at his lips.

You were laughing too hard—and thus trying to quiet down your laughter—to respond to him, giving him the perfect leeway to continue. “What would you even call that? Saxing? Sexing?”

You were dizzy again, but this time it was light-headedness from laughing too hard, quite literally slapping your knee as you tried to calm yourself down.

Kun was chuckling as well, sliding in to sit next to you. “I take offense at the sentiment that fax machines are lame, by the way. I’ll have you know that’s my personal fax line on my business card. Not everyone gets their own.”

Finally having enough wits about you to form sentences again, you sat up straight to look him in the eye as you clarified, “Hey, I was saying that loser dudes who make fake business cards think that fax machines are lame. I think men with fax machines are sexy, especially personal fax lines.”

You went to nudge his shoulder teasingly, caught off-guard as you realized just how close he was to you. Even closer than the night on your couch, his dark eyes settling on your face, unabashedly drinking you in. Your breath hitched in your throat as you were suddenly surrounded by the intoxicating smell of his cologne. The cold air made the hair on your bare arms stand up—or maybe it was something else—and you found yourself pressing forward even closer towards Kun’s warmth.

“Y/N,” he murmured your name quietly. “Are you cold? We can go back inside.”

“No, just…” you took a deep breath, scooting in even closer to him, until you were pressed up side-to-side. “Stay right here? You’re warm.”

He uncertainly wrapped his arm around you. “Sure, sure. Of course.”

“And… Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, yeah.”

“I wasn’t crazy, right? On the couch the other night… Did you want to kiss me, too?”

“You-You wanted to kiss me?”

“I’m uh, a bit rusty at this kind of thing,” you admitted, your skin burning. “But I’m not completely imagining that there’s… something here, right, Kun?”

“You wanted to kiss me?” He repeated like a broken record.

You lightly snapped your fingers in front of his face. “Kun? My question? Or have I officially lost it, and this is like… going to make everything awkward for the fundraising committee?”

“No, no, I-I do—did want to kiss you. I thought I was making you uncomfortable,” he stumbled over his words sheepishly. “I’m uhm… also pretty rusty with this stuff.”

“You do want to kiss me? Or you did want to kiss me, past tense?” You clarified.

“Both! Uhm, I did, that night on the couch, and I still do, now…” He confessed weakly.

“Is there any reason that you shouldn’t? Like, is there somebody…?”

“No, there isn’t. Not at all.” Kun gulped. “What about you?”

“Nope, nobody, and Qian Kun, if you continue to talk about kissing me without actually doing anything, I might actually lose my mind,” you whispered, feeling hot, embarrassed, desperate tears pricking at the edges of your eyes.

“God, sorry.” He cupped your cheek, turning your head and tilting your chin to be able to perfectly slot his lips with yours. The arm that was already wrapped around you just pulled you closer to him, as one of your hands grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket. You let out an embarrassing whimper as soon as his mouth meshed with yours, and he murmured another hushed ‘sorry’ against your lips. If he hadn’t just told you that he was rusty, you wouldn’t have had any idea as your head spun, your heart beat out of your chest wildly like a cartoon, and you were definitely crying tears of relief into what you were seriously considering quite possibly your best kiss ever.

It was your turn to mutter an apology as your tears turned the kiss salty, but as you pulled back to do just that, you saw the glistening of Kun’s eyes in the champagne tinted light filtering out from the ballroom, turning his tears golden as they slipped down his cheeks. Instead, you just pressed your forehead to his in silent understanding, looping your arm around his neck to hold him even closer, if that was possible.

PART II: you got my heartbeat to play to your time

Spotting Kun in the lobby of the preschool, you immediately lit up and rushed to sit down beside him on one of the benches. He offered you a tired smile and peck on the cheek in greeting, scooting to make room for you.

“Brr, it’s fucking freezing out there,” you shuddered, grabbing his hand to press it against the cold tip of your nose. “That’s just from the 30-second walk from the parking lot to here! Are you two going to survive the walk home? You sure you don’t want me to drive you? Well, I don’t have another carseat for Junyi, but he could sit on your lap in the backseat, I think? Better than freezing to death, right?”

“We’ll be okay, Y/N,” Kun reassured you, patting your leg before resting his hand there. “Thank you though, love.”

The subject of the cold suddenly made you remember something else, and you perked up, “Oh, Woobin and I were at the store yesterday and he needed new gloves, and I saw that bun’s were getting a little worn out when we went out last weekend too—”

“Whose?” Kun asked, furrowing his brows.

“Junyi’s. Look.” You held up the pair that matched Woobin’s, save for the pattern, which had little bunnies on them instead of whales. “Aren’t they adorable? God, I just love their tiny hands. I’ll return them if this is weird and I overstepped a line though. I tried to call you to see if this was okay, but the store was just a dead zone, and I couldn’t get a signal.”

A sheepish smile punctuated the end of your nervous rambling. You and Kun hadn’t been dating for very long, just a few months, and you were still getting a feel for boundaries when it came to your relationship with each other and each other’s kids. You’d just started spending the night at each other’s houses with both kids there—already a big step, in your opinion. Taking the initiative on buying Junyi a new pair of gloves had seemed perfectly natural when the thought came to you, but you didn’t want it to feel like you were rushing things to Kun, or taking a place that wasn’t yours to take—and hadn’t been offered to you—in Junyi’s life.

“Oh, no, Y/N, these are perfect, thank you.” He accepted them, a genuine, grateful smile on his face as he tucked them away in his jacket pocket, then squeezed both of your hands. “Junyi will love them. He did need new gloves; I just hadn’t made it out to the store yet.”

“Then what is making you make that face?”

“Since when has Junyi been a bunny?”

“Were you not intentionally buying him a bunch of bunny-patterned stuff?” You questioned, tilting your head.

“Huh?”

“His backpack, his stuffie that he brings to school, his pajamas that he wore at my place last weekend, and I’ve seen him in like at least three different bunny t-shirts. I thought the theming was intentional.”

Kun took a long, slow blink. “Oh… it was not.”

“Kun… are bunnies your favorite animal?” You teased.

“No! I think…?”

“God, long day at work?” You surmised, stroking the back of his head soothingly.

He leaned into your touch, letting out a disgruntled groan, “Long week. Scratch that, long month.”

“Mm, anything I can do to help?”

“Unless you can clone me, or stop time…”

“Okay, new question: Anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Even just something small?”

“Can you and Woobin come over tonight? I know we weren’t planning on it, but—”

“Yes, Kun, we can come over tonight,” you agreed, using your free hand to grab one of his.

“Thank you,” he sighed, squeezing your hand back.

The door to the boys’ classroom opened then, and you nudged Kun’s shoulder with yours. He nodded, the two of you standing up together. As soon as you stepped foot into the classroom, your shins were knocked into by one small body, then another.

“Oh, hey bun! Hey bubbles!” You greeted the kids, wobbling a bit as they had each latched onto one of your legs.

Kun, who had caught you by the elbow to steady you, was looking at the three of you with that same tired but heartfelt smile, “Guys, am I just chopped liver?”

Junyi squinted up at his dad curiously, “What’s liver?”

“Yeah, what’s liver, Mr. Kun?” Woobin echoed.

“He means he wants a hug too, boys,” you explained. “And he’s been working really hard, so I think he should get a really big one.”

They immediately detached themselves from you to throw their little arms around Kun’s legs instead.

“You should ask for one next time, Mr. Kun!”

“Yeah, Daddy! Instead of talkin’ about liver and stuff.”

“Yeah, Mr. Kun, just ask for one next time,” you repeated teasingly.

Kun looked at the two kids with that same fond, resigned smile. “Right, my bad, boys. I will just ask for one when I need one next time.”

As the kids hug-attacked Kun, you went over to their forgotten cubbies to pick up their respective whale and bunny backpacks, giving Ms. Xu and Mrs. Chen friendly waves of acknowledgement. When you returned, Kun had managed to get a kid under each arm, both toddlers giggling as they were held like sacks of potatoes.

“Are you carrying them out like that?” You asked with a tilted head.

“Maybe,” Kun joked. “It’s a good arm workout.”

“Yeah, for all three of you,” you referred to how the boys were clinging onto his forearms against gravity as well.

“Mm, the idea of buff three-year-olds terrifies me,” he declared, lowering the kids. “Alright, time to let go, guys.”

You reached into Junyi’s backpack to secure the little tiny puffer jacket that was inside, “It’s a bit chilly out, bun-bun, and you and your dad are walking home, so come on, you’re putting your coat on.”

“Okay,” he stuck his arms out for you to help put it on him.

“Oh,” Kun pulled the new pair of gloves out of his own pocket, showing them off to his son. “Look, buddy. Ms. Y/N got you a new pair of gloves.”

“Oh wow, thank you!” He beamed up at you.

“You’re welcome,” you grinned back, kneeling down in front of him to zip up the jacket for him. “Woobin has a pair just like it but with whales, so you two can match next time he wears his.”

Woobin looked down at his bare hands with a thoughtful frown. “Where are my gloves, Mommy?”

“They’re probably in your backpack, baby. You and I are driving home so you don’t have to put them on if you don’t want to, because your hands won’t be getting cold outside like Junyi’s.”

“Oh. I want to put them on, please.”

“Here, I’ll get them,” Kun unzipped the backpack that was on your shoulder and began rooting through it.

“Thank you.” You murmured. As he got the gloves and helped Woobin put them on, you went over the plans for the rest of the night with your son, “We’re going to go home and get a few things, and then we’re going to Mr. Kun and Junyi’s house for a sleepover, okay?”

“Okay!”

Kun had finished tugging on the gloves then, “There you go, Bin.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kun!” Woobin chirped, then reached out for the other toddler. “Junyi, we match!”

“We match!” Junyi giggled back, grabbing Woobin's whale-patterned hand with his own bunny-patterned one.

You stood up, covering your mouth in delight as you whispered to Kun, “I’m literally going to cry.”

“Way ahead of you,” he whispered back, and when you looked over, you did in fact see a single tear rolling down one of his cheeks.

“Oh, oh my God, Kun.” You wiped it away with your thumb. “What’s—”

“Talk later?”

“Okay, yeah,” you nodded, looking around at the fact that you were still very much in the boys’ classroom, and had other things to do. “Right, of course. Talk later.”

Kun reached up to grab your hand that had wiped the tear away, squeezing it and offering you a smile. He dried his eyes with the sleeve of his other hand, then called for the kids, “Come on, boys. We’ve got to go. You’ll see each other in just a bit.”

Getting Woobin packed up to spend the night at Kun and Junyi’s was easy, and so was getting the two of them fed once you were there. The difficult part was getting even a single second of semi-private time with Kun to actually talk. The two boys wanted to include both of you in every single thing they did tonight, which was typically endearing, but the exhaustion that plagued Kun’s features the while time still concerned you. It wasn’t until they were finally asleep in Junyi’s room, and you and Kun had cleaned up from dinner, that you finally had an opportunity.

He pulled you over to the couch, and you sat down, expecting one of your normal grown-up, mature, face-to-face talks to happen now. You’d had a few already, about your expectations when you started dating, about the first time you spent the night at the other’s house like this, whenever there was any need to clear the air. Both you and Kun agreed that you were both at the point in your life where you couldn’t deal with the kind of tip-toeing uncertainty of young relationships, you needed something serious, with open, honest communication, especially around the kids.

But instead, Kun practically collapsed on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your middle. You cradled his head close to you, running a hand through his hair and stroking a thumb over his cheekbone.

“What’s wrong, Kun?” You murmured. “You seem… drained.”

“I am,” he admitted plainly, defeat in his tone. “Just absolutely… fucking dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, love,” you replied quietly.

“But you were such a big help today, thank you.”

“I don’t know how bringing another toddler into your home helped with that, but okay,” you said skeptically, still playing with his hair.

“Having a second set of hands to help with dinnertime, and play time, and bathtime, and bedtime…” His chest heaved with another big sigh. “And just having you around… makes everything easier.”

He reached up to grab one of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours. The grip he had made you think he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. “I don’t want you to leave, Y/N.”

“Kun, I’ll stay for as long as you need me to,” you promised. “A couple nights, a week, whatever you need. Life is hard, especially trying to do everything on your own. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so how about you take the boys out and I’ll tidy up around here, okay?”

“Forever?”

“What?”

“Will you stay forever?”

You stared down at your interlocked hands, the one in his hair stilling. “Are you asking…”

“You said you’d stay however long I need you to. I always need you with me, Y/N. Will you two move in with us?” Kun asked, placing a couple of long kisses to your hand. “Or we can get a new place. I just… can’t imagine having to do this without you. Both of you. All four of us.”

You hummed, your hand resuming its ministrations in his locks. “We’ll probably need a new place… but yes, Kun. We’ll move in with you.”

He quickly kissed his way up your arm to your neck and face, until he was hovering above you, a breathless smile on his features. “Really?”

“I’ll need to talk to Binnie…” You warned. “And like I just said, we’ll probably need to look for a new place, since the boys are used to having their own rooms and we can afford it combined. It won’t be instantaneous, but yes… we can start planning it.”

Then Kun was showering your face in kisses, and you giggled, cupping his face fondly.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Kun,” you pulled him into a soft peck, before his raining kisses started going even lower, below your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. When his hand slipped under your shirt, you looked at him suspiciously. “Hey… I thought you were absolutely fucking dead?”

“Mysterious second wind,” his words were muffled against your skin, but you could feel the sly smirk on his lips.

“Alright, well do you think this second wind can at least be moved into your bedroom?”

“Y/N, five weeks?!” Kun exclaimed, making you immediately slap a hand over his mouth and look over your shoulder at the two freshly-washed four-year-old boys sitting down to enjoy their post-bathtime show.

“Keep your voice down!” You chastised him in a harsh whisper. The living room was open to the kitchen in your new place, where you and Kun were huddled having your fervent back and forth at the moment. You’d just so very casually dropped the fact that your period had been five weeks late, at perhaps not the most opportune time, washing the dishes, but really you hadn’t meant for it to be a huge deal.

After you took your hand off his mouth, he replied back much more quietly, “Sorry, I’m not upset with you, love, I’m surprised. Why haven’t you taken a test?”

“With work and both the boys’ birthdays, then them starting VPK, I just haven’t had time to go get one.”

“Let’s go get one now then.”

“What, a family trip to the corner store to buy a pregnancy test?” You snorted at the idea, holding a dry plate out to Kun to put away.

He didn’t take the plate, staring at you as he repeated, “Family?”

“You know what I meant…” You whined, putting the dish down on the counter and covering your face in embarrassment. That was the first time either of you had referred to the four of you as one family unit.

He wrapped his arms around you, letting you bury your face in his chest. “I don’t think you even know what you meant, lovey.”

“Ugh, you’re right.” Your brain was way too scrambled at the moment, preoccupied with trying extremely hard to not think about what being late could possibly mean, what a test could possibly say.

“I’m serious, come on. We’ll buy the boys some ice cream, they’ll be none the wiser.”

“Fine, I need to put some real pants on,” you pushed off his chest, gesturing to the dingy sleep shorts were you in. “Can you—”

“Get the boys’ shoes on. On it.” He nodded firmly.

“Thank you, my love.”

“Kun, I can’t pee with you grinning at me like that. It’s weird.”

With Woobin and Junyi preoccupied with their character popsicles and a movie in the living room, you and Kun were in the small hallway bathroom closest to the living room. It also happened to be the boys’ shared bathroom, the walls covered in vinyl, removable stickers of cartoon characters smiling down at you as unnervingly as Kun was currently. It was far too many eyes for what you were doing, peeing on a drugstore pregnancy test.

“Sorry, sorry,” your boyfriend apologized, diverting his eyes and covering his mouth, though he was clearly still beaming into his hand.

Finally done with that part of the test, you set it atop the box that was sitting on the bathroom counter, washing your hands and dropping back down onto the toilet seat.

“And now we wait,” you declared with a heavy chest.

“Okay.” Kun nodded resolutely, allowing his eyes to return to you now that you’d spoken again, still absolutely glittering in the harsh fluorescents.

“Now would be a good time to talk, about if that’s a plus. You’re still grinning like a maniac, so I have a guess as to what you’re about to say.”

He sighed almost dreamily as he looked up at you, resting his cheek in his hand. “You’re just… the most beautiful woman in the world to me, right now. And I love you, so much.”

“This, me sitting on the toilet in our tiny hallway bathroom, having just peed on a stick in front of you,” you pointed between the two of you, “is one of the least romantic situations I think we’ve ever been in. But, I love you too, you weirdo.”

“That wasn’t my answer, by the way. You go first, you’d be the one carrying any baby of ours, after all.”

“After Woobin, I told myself that if I had another, I’d do it…” You trailed off as you fumbled around for the right word.

“Right?” Kun supplemented hesitantly.

“No, no, I don’t think Woobin was wrong. That’s one thesaurus entry away from ‘mistake,’ as cheesy as that might sound. But, I told myself that I’d do my next one different. I’d be married to someone, we’d have planned the pregnancy over multiple conversations, talked about kids before we even got married in the first place, I’d have talked to Binnie about it, made sure he had the emotional space for a little sibling, too.”

“And we haven’t even talked about getting married…” He breathed out in realization.

You narrowed your eyes. “Qian Kun, do you think for even a second, that I would be with you if I didn’t think that I could marry you one day? After everything you’ve learned about me? After that whole toilet bowl confessional I just gave literally ten seconds ago? Consider this the marriage talk warning. It’s coming, and when it does, I expect you to bring notes.”

“Good point, I’m sorry for doubting you, lovey. I eagerly await the marriage talks, and I’ll make sure to do my research ahead of time.”

“Good.”

“So that’s how you want to do it. What about if that test is positive? Right now?” He returned you to the present, his voice gentle, as you were reminded of the very real, very possible, tangible now that you were being faced with.

You let your head drop forward into your hands as you tried to pick apart the tangled ball that was your thoughts and feelings. Thinking back to when you were doing this by yourself the first time in your workplace bathroom, when you found out you were pregnant with Binnie… you distantly remembered how you felt when you saw that double line, that positive result. There was definitely anxiety, yes, but more than that you remembered an excitement bubbling up and overflowing on top of that the longer that it registered.

This time, you weren’t feeling any of that. Not because you didn’t love the idea of having a child with Kun, but… it just wouldn’t be the right time. The two of you had only recently moved in together, you were still getting used to enmeshing your two—or, four—separate lives into one, you hadn’t even been together for a year, Woobin and Junyi hadn’t been consulted whatsoever, not to mention they had just started VPK and would be going into primary school next year; Kun had just gotten a promotion at work, yes, but you had your eye on your own possible promotion, too. It just… wasn’t right. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally looked up at Kun sitting across from you in the narrow space of the hallway bathroom. You could feel the tears gathering in your eyes, his image immediately swimming in your vision.

“Oh, hey, come here, lovey,” he gently ushered you down from your perch on the toilet seat cover onto the ground with him. He settled you in between his legs, wrapping his arms around you, “Sad cry or scary cry?”

You had the urge to smack his arm for treating you like one of the kids, but unfortunately, it was a really good communication tool.

“Goddamn,” you wept against his shirt, clinging onto him. “I don’t know, Kun. I don’t fucking know. It’s not a happy cry, though. And I don’t think that any kid should be brought into the world if their mom isn’t happy at the thought of them.”

He rubbed a hand up and down your back, not faltering for a moment as you spoke. When you were done, he started, “Look, Y/N. I’ll admit, the idea of having a baby with you kind of sent me to the stratosphere there for a second. But, I think that a baby is something that needs to be two enthusiastic yeses, or it’s a no. And you…” he pulled your face out of the crook of his neck to be able to look you in the eye. “Are clearly not enthusiastic nor a yes. So I’m not either. Okay?”

You sniffled, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, wiping at your tears. “Now, I think it’s been plenty of time. Are you ready to look at the test?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Kun stretched his arm out, fumbling along the top of the bathroom counter until he had secured the test in his hand. You turned in his arms, fully leaned against him, your back to his chest as he flipped the stick over for you two to read the results together.

Negative.

And you were crying again, but this time you knew that they were tears of relief.

“Oh, thank God,” you whispered, holding a hand over your mouth. “Oh… oh my God.”

“There we go,” Kun murmured, holding you to him by an arm slung over your waist. “Now, call me crazy, but I think we just manifested that negative pregnancy test result.”

You let out a choked laugh, “Would it be manifesting a negative or un-manifesting a positive?”

“Good question.”

He held a foot out until he could reach the step opener of the trash can, tossing the test into it. You sat there with him for who knows how much longer, until the cold of the tile finally seeped through your clothes, and your joints were aching from being curled up on your bathroom floor for so long.

“Oh shit, the boys are all by themselves in the living room,” you mumbled, beginning to detangle yourself from Kun.

“I’ll clean up in here. You get into some pajamas and then go see them, okay? They’ve been the normal amount of quiet, I think the movie’s got them sufficiently occupied, so take your time. I’ll be right behind you.” He reassured you, standing up after you did, and keeping a hand on the small of your back as you went to wash your hands again.

The remnants of the pregnancy test packaging were on the counter, not to mention the general disarray from your breakdown, and the fact that you hadn’t tidied up from the boys’ bathtime earlier that night either. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you could see that you weren’t in much better shape than the bathroom.

“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Kun.” Your voice wasn’t any louder than a whisper, and it didn’t need to be in the small, quiet space.

He pressed a long kiss to your temple before you left for your bedroom to change out of the clothes that you’d gone to the convenience store in. Putting on the comfiest pajamas you could find, you then shuffled out to the living room, which you were glad to see was in one piece. Tension you didn’t even realize you were carrying released from your shoulders when your eyes fell on the two kids sat on the couch, their attention glued to the screen.

You weren’t sure how long you had been standing there before Woobin finally turned his head to look at you. “Oh hi Mommy!”

“Hi, Ms. Y/N!”

“Hi, boys, can I join you?” You asked.

“Well, yeah!” Junyi said in the most ‘duh!’ tone you’d ever heard a four-year-old imitate. He patted the open space between the two of them. “We saved you a spot here.”

“Oh, thank you.” You sat down exactly where he had gestured, tucking your feet underneath you. Woobin immediately clambered onto your lap, and Junyi scooted in to snuggle into your other side.

“And when Daddy gets here, his spot is over here,” Junyi pointed to the remaining space between him and the arm of the couch. “And he can put the blanket on all of us.”

“Right, of course, bun,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around the two boys to hold them even closer to you.

Woobin touched a hand to your cheek, “Mommy, you’re crying. Sad cry, scary cry, or boo-boo cry?”

“Oh, no, baby, it's a happy cry,” you assured him, wiping at the couple of tears that had eked out again with your sleeve. “It’s because I love you all so much.”

“Happy cry,” he repeated, as if committing the term to memory.

Kun joined the three of you a few minutes later, sliding into his assigned seat and pulling a blanket over the four of you. Mindful of the child in between you two, you rested your head on his shoulder.

Against your instincts, you shut the front door quietly behind you as you came home that night. You’d gotten caught up at work with a deadline suddenly being moved up. You plopped your purse onto the kitchen table next to the huge LEGO set that you’d started with the boys last weekend as Kun got up from the couch to greet you. He was already in his pajamas, a stark contrast to the office wear you were still in.

“Hey, lovey,” he pecked your cheek, letting you snake both your arms around his waist and hold him closer. “How was work?”

You let out a low, exhausted groan into his shoulder. “Long. If I ever have to read another word again in my life, it’ll be too soon.”

“Then you’ll be very happy to hear that I already read the boys a bedtime story.”

“Shit, am I that late?” You sighed. “I know I told you I’d probably miss dinner but I didn’t mean for you to do bedtime all by yourself, too.”

“It’s okay, I know you would’ve been here if you could. The three of us managed for one night.”

“How was everything? Were they good for you?”

“Absolute angels.”

You lifted your head up to shoot him a disbelieving look. “Our sons? Are you sure you’ve got the right kids in there?”

Kun chuckled, planting a kiss on your lips this time. “You know us too well. Only convinced them to get in bed with bribery.”

“Great, what did you promise them? Extra hour of TV this weekend? Kun, please do not tell me you promised a new toy or—”

“Woah, woah, who do you think I am?” He snorted, clearly offended. “I just had to promise that you’d give them their goodnight kiss when you got home. They were very concerned about going to sleep without one.”

Relief immediately flooded your system, along with a warm fondness. “Oh, good. I’ll go hold up our end, then.”

“Before you do,” Kun held you by the waist to keep you from walking away yet. He lowered his voice, tone turning serious. “Woobin was asking for you before lights-out. Not just for his goodnight kiss, but he wouldn’t tell me what was going on. I have a feeling he might still be up when you go in.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll pop into his room second. Thanks for the heads-up.”

With a final pat on the cheek, you left Kun’s warm embrace and treaded down the hall that contained the boys’ bedrooms and shared bathroom. You slowly opened the door to Junyi’s room first. The room was pitch black save for the dwindling light from his glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars, and you crept up to his bedside. Just able to see the faint outline of him under his covers, you gently brushed away some of his hair and laid a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Night, bun-bun,” you murmured, then kissed his pudgy little cheek one more time before standing up. He didn’t stir, his breathing remained peaceful and as you ducked back out you closed the door even more quietly than you had opened it.

As soon as you pushed the door to Woobin’s room open, you knew he was awake. He was in a phase of sleeping with a night-light on, meaning that you could immediately see his eyes staring at you.

“Hi, Mommy,” he deadpanned, hands folded together over his stomach.

You entered the room, shutting the door behind you. “Hi, baby. What are you still doing up?”

He squirmed a little under the covers, refusing to meet your eyes as you came to sit on his mattress next to him. “Waiting for my goodnight kiss.”

“Oh, you could’ve gone to sleep,” you reassured him, moving his bangs out of the way of his forehead. “Mommy would’ve still come and given you your goodnight kiss.”

He was silent as you leaned down to smooch his forehead. Pulling back, you asked, “Is that all, Binnie?”

Woobin mumbled something that you couldn’t quite make out.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again for me? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I want to say something, but it’s after my bedtime…”

“Don’t worry, baby. I want to hear what you have to say. You can say it now.”

“I don’t want Junyi to be mad at me.”

“Why do you think Junyi would be mad at you?”

“You can’t tell them!” He suddenly exclaimed, pleading and desperate.

“Tell who? Junyi and Mr. Kun?” You asked, brow furrowing with confusion.

He nodded fervently, panic on his features.

“You remember our rules about sharing things?”

“If it’s about safety or respect, we all have to know,” he recited mournfully. “It’s not! I promise! I think…”

“How about you tell me, and I’ll tell you if it’s something we should tell everyone. I won’t get mad, and you and me can talk about it for as long as you want first. Does that sound okay?”

“Okay…”

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said soothingly, watching him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

“I-I want to call Mr. Kun ‘Daddy.’”

You couldn’t help but smile widely at him, taking your son’s hand in yours. “That’s wonderful, baby. I think it would make Mr. Kun really happy that you want to.”

“But that’s what Junyi calls him…”

“And you think it would upset Junyi if you called him the same thing?”

“Yeah,” he sniffled.

“That’s very considerate, Binnie,” you told him proudly.

“Are you going to tell them?”

“No, not if you don’t want me to,” you shook your head. “But I think that it would be a good idea for you, Junyi, and Mr. Kun to all talk about this together. When you’re ready.”

Woobin sniffled again, and you leaned over to hug your boy. He immediately threw his arms around your neck, burying his wet face in the collar of your blouse.

When you finally left his room after watching him fall asleep with your own two eyes, you found Kun reclined in your bed, bedside lamp on as he read a book.

“Is Woobin alright?” Kun flipped his book shut and set it aside.

You shimmied out of your work clothes. “Yeah, he’s okay. Just… needed Mom before bed.”

He nodded, watching as you pulled sleep clothes on and shuffled over to the bathroom. “Mm, of course. Mr. Kun wasn’t enough…” He sighed dramatically, making you lean your head back out to glare at him, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth.

“Shut up,” you grumbled after spitting your toothpaste out and flicking the bathroom light off. You plopped into bed, snuggling up to your pillow and closing your eyes. “He loves you, you know that.”

The sound of the bedside lamp clicking off rang through your room before you felt the sheets shift around and Kun scoot closer to you.

“I know, I’m just not ‘Mom,’” he mused, grabbing your hands to tug you toward him.

You obliged, rolling over to face him and rest your head on his shoulder. He kissed your forehead, still holding your hands against his chest.

“Goodnight, my love,” you breathed out, “Thank you again for handling them alone tonight.”

“Goodnight, lovey.” He rubbed soothing circles into the palm of your hand with his thumb.

As you watched Kun alternate between pushing Woobin and Junyi on the swingset, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. It was peaceful afternoons like these that you treasured the most. You recognized a few more figures that were approaching the playground, waving to Johnny and Jaehyun in the distance as Mark and Sungchan immediately ran up to your two boys. The three dads all chatted as the four kids took off from the swingset at full speed towards the slides. You were on a bench a little further from the playset, and had no qualms about sitting and resting when you got the chance.

The playground was within walking distance of yours and Kun’s house, and right by the school, so it wasn’t a total shock to see some of your kids’ classmates there. You watched with amusement as all three of the adults perked up like meerkats towards the kids, who were now lined up at the monkey bars. Mark was first up, and must have been asking for help, as Johnny yelled out a ‘just a sec, champ!’ before gesturing between the three dads and all the kids clambering for their turn.

Apparently, Johnny and Jaehyun had decided it was their turn to help all four kids with the bars, as Kun lumbered over to plop down next to you at the picnic table.

“Thank God they showed up, I don’t know if I have it left in me to carry them back and forth across the monkey bars for the next hour,” Kun grunted, dropping his head down to rest on your shoulder.

You snickered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you watched all the children play. Woobin was the littlest, needing Jaehyun’s help all the way across the bars. The dad still gave him as enthusiastic of a double high-five as he gave Junyi after him, who was able to do a couple by himself after getting hoisted up there.

“Woobin wants to call you Dad, you know,” you blurted out in the quietness that had fallen between you and Kun.

Kun lifted his head up to look at you with wide eyes. “He does?”

“Yeah, he told me the other day. But he thinks Junyi will be mad at him.”

“Ohh…” He breathed out, nodding slowly.

“I would’ve said something to you, but he asked me not to tell you and Junyi at first. We had another conversation about it this morning, and he finally agreed that I could talk to you about it at least,” you explained. “I told him that you three should all talk. I think he’s really, really scared of making Junyi upset. They’re such good friends, you know?”

You looked on with fondness as the gaggle of kids around the monkey bars took off at a run away from Johnny and Jaehyun, apparently playing some kind of tag or hide and seek now. Woobin and Junyi were running off together hand-in-hand, giggling and cackling with laughter as Johnny mimicked chasing after them.

Kun ran a knuckle up and down your arm, trailing his hand down until he could lace his fingers with yours. “I know, sometimes I look at them and I think it’s like they’re… brothers.”

“Mm, yeah,” you hummed noncommittally. Finally taking your eyes off the playground, you turned to face him fully, covering his hand with both of yours. “Kun, with all this… it makes me really happy, you and Junyi make me really happy, and all four of us being together. But, I don’t— I’m not trying to replace Junyi’s mom. Despite what she did, he’s already had one, whatever memories he’s got of her. I want to be whatever he wants me to be. So, I’m perfectly content to be ‘Ms. Y/N’ for the rest of my life.”

“I asked him the other day, if he remembered his mom at all,” he admitted quietly.

“W-Why?”

“Morbid curiosity, I guess. He was so young, I wasn’t sure if he would. Funny thing was, he told me yes. So I asked what he remembered about her. And he just looked at me with the most confused expression I think I’ve ever seen him have and he goes ‘She picked me up from school today.’”

“Oh, oh my God,” you let out a choked chuckle, a lump growing in your throat.

“You picked him up from school that day, Y/N,” Kun said pointedly, poking you in the arm for emphasis.

“Yeah, I had guessed that,” you spluttered out, a wide, beaming smile on your face as you replayed those words in your mind over and over again.

“So it seems like, to me, you’re the only one with hang-ups about this, lovey.”

“I’m gonna fucking cry— no, scratch that, I already am,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes with one of your hands.

“Sad cry, scary cry, boo-boo cry, or happy cry?” Kun asked teasingly, thumb wiping away one of your tears.

“Happy cry,” you answered, despite the fact that he definitely already knew. “So happy. I love you so much, both of you.”

“Junyi!” The distant voice of Johnny called out, chastising.

Both you and Kun snapped your heads up to look, only to see said child running at you full-speed.

“Woobin! Let your parents…” Jaehyun trailed off in defeat as a second small body hurtled towards you. “Sorry! We tried to let you guys have a moment…”

“It’s alright!” Kun called back to them as the two boys finally made it to you.

You lifted Junyi up onto the bench next to you with no hesitation, and Kun plopped Woobin onto his lap, his little legs reaching into yours. Junyi sat himself down on one of your legs, facing you with the most worried, intense gaze on his face.

“Are you okay, Ms. Y/N?!” He wiped at your wet cheeks. “What happened?”

“Nothing, hunny-bun,” you promised, holding both of his little hands and dropping loud smooches to them. “Happy tears, they’re happy tears. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Because you love us so much?” Woobin asked, supplying the last reason you’d given him for your happy tears.

“Yeah, always, bubbles,” you grabbed his head to be able to press a kiss to his forehead. “Always love you guys so much.”

“Why does it make you cry?”

“Because I have so much love inside me for all of you that sometimes it feels like I could just… burst!” You said with enough of a sing-song-y inflection that it made the two kids giggle, especially when you mimicked an explosion with your hands. “So instead of spontaneously exploding, it comes out as tears sometimes. Tears aren’t bad, Binnie, remember?”

“I know, Mommy,” he nodded dutifully.

Kun spoke up then, “I think we should all talk about what was making your mom so happy this time, boys.”

Junyi looked at his dad with alarm. “What? Bin and I didn’t do anything! We’re not in trouble, right?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Woobin pouted. “Junyi—”

“No, you’re not in trouble,” Kun hushed them gently. “I just said it was making your mom happy. What about you two getting in trouble would make your mom happy?”

“Oh.”

“I mean, it’s about what you two want to call us.”

You were still cradling Woobin’s head, and stroked over his hair reassuringly. “It’s okay, Binnie. Tell them what you told me.”

“I-I want to call Mr. Kun ‘Daddy,’” he mumbled, looking down intently at his lap. “But I don’t have to if it’s going to make you sad, Junyi!”

Junyi listened to Woobin, face turning entirely confused. “But he is your dad! Why wouldn’t you call him that?” He turned his bewildered look to you next. “And you’re our mom, right?!”

“Of course I am, bun-bun,” you smiled at him. “Binnie just needs to know if it’s going to make you upset for both of you to call your dad the same thing.”

“No, Bin, s’not gonna make me sad,” Junyi said strongly. “Will it make you sad if we call her the same thing?”

Woobin sniffled and looked up, finally displaying his teary eyes to everybody. He shook his head, and you felt relief blossom out through every part of you. Kun squeezed him tightly.

“Bub, sad cry, scary cry, or happy cry?” Kun asked him.

The child took several deep breaths before he finally answered. “I-I think it was scary first, but now it’s a happy cry, Daddy. Like Mommy does.”

Kun let out a strangled chuckle as he hugged Woobin even tighter to him, planting a kiss to his temple. “That’s okay, bub. Look at you, big kid with big feelings.”

“Daddy’s crying too!” Junyi gasped. “Is it happy crying, Daddy?”

“Yeah, buddy, it is,” he confirmed, cheeks noticeably damp.

Junyi felt at his own dry eyes. “Why am I not happy crying? Mommy, why am I not happy crying? ‘M happy! I am!”

“Oh, bunny, it’s okay,” you couldn’t help but laugh, rubbing his back affectionately. “You don’t have to cry to be really happy. Sometimes you’ll be really, really happy, the happiest you’ve ever been, and you won’t cry. Everybody’s different.”

“I do.”

“I do!” Sooyoung squealed.

The officiant’s remaining words were drowned out by the crowd erupting into cheers as Sooyoung was dipped into a kiss by her now-wife. You clapped from your place behind her as her maid-of-honor, your cheeks already hurting from all the smiling you’d been doing that day.

As they practically ran back down the aisle together, giddy, you were left standing at the arch, holding SooSoo’s wedding bouquet that she’d forgotten in her excitement. The music swelled again, your cue for the wedding party to file out as well. You fell in beside Ahrin’s best man, taking a more reasonable pace down the walkway. Looking into the guests that had stood up, you caught Kun’s eye from one of the middle rows, a familiar wide, overjoyed grin on his face. He was in the stratosphere again.

You met up with Kun at your table at the reception, the wedding party table. While he wasn’t in the party, he was your plus one, and your friend of course made sure he was seated with you. After the obligatory speeches—including one that you had to give—everyone could start eating. Kids were allowed at the wedding, but you wanted to make sure that you could put all your focus on making this the best day ever for your friend and didn’t want to have the boys out too late either, so they were at home with a babysitter. After the food was the couple’s first dance, and you watched fondly from your table as Sooyoung and Ahrin swayed together, clearly in their own world, exchanging words and giggles and laughs that you couldn’t hear.

Kun’s hand and yours were entwined on your lap, and when the DJ asked for the wedding party and their plus-ones to join the newlyweds, you pulled him to floor by that hand. As Kun’s other hand settled on your hip, you affectionately smoothed down the lapel of his suit jacket before resting yours on the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he beamed at you.

“Hi, handsome,” you replied back humorously. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“You mean there could possibly be anything on my mind other than the fact that I’m dancing with the love of my life?”

“You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I’ve been launched into the stratosphere picturing our future together’ look,” you said frankly, but still with the same fond smirk on your lips. “So? What are you thinking about?”

His eyes widened minutely before he chuckled. “I’m having a good time with you, lovey. Is a guy not allowed to smile about that?”

“You are…”

“That’s all I was thinking about.” He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Always in the stratosphere when I’m with you.”

Despite his sweet words, you felt a twinge of disappointment in your chest, resting your cheek on his shoulder so he couldn’t see the contemplative frown on your face. The two of you were living together before Sooyoung and Ahrin had even met, you were raising two kids together right now, and had already discussed getting married—binders, spreadsheets, all your joint expectations for what you wanted out of a hypothetical future partnership like that. Why was he shying away from the subject now? Was seeing you actually at a wedding making him have second thoughts? Did it suddenly all seem too real? As if the binders and spreadsheets weren’t real enough?

Those weren’t questions to ask him now at your best friend’s wedding, so you bit your tongue, continuing to let him sway the two of you across the dance floor.

Later in the night, after your feet had gotten tired, Kun excused himself to use the restroom. You took the opportunity to catch your breath at the wedding party’s table. You’d been darting around the venue the whole time, either greeting friends of friends, dancing with people you knew, or stopping mishaps before they mis-happened. Some guests had started going home, so you felt somewhat comfortable taking a short rest.

You weren’t expecting one of the brides herself to sit down beside you, however.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Sooyoung asked knowingly.

You tried to perk up, slapping on a smile. “It’s nothing, SooSoo. My feet are tired. Why aren’t you with Ahrin?”

“We’re about to be together for the rest of our lives. I think she can piss by herself right now,” she replied.

“Oh, right.”

“And, it’s also my wedding, and I don’t want my best friend all sad and alone at my wedding. I know you’ve been fixing all my problems all day and all night. So will you let me help you with one of yours?”

You looked around to see if you could spot Kun anywhere, then leaned in towards her with a sigh. “Kun’s been acting weird today.”

“How?”

“We always talk about getting married pretty openly. But like, now that we’re at a wedding, it feels like he’s avoiding the topic.”

“Why haven’t you guys gotten married? You practically act like it anyway.”

“He still wants to surprise me with the proposal,” you said. “I told him no public proposals, no proposing on birthdays or holidays, and no proposing at other people’s weddings. But other than that…”

“When was that conversation? About getting married and engaged?”

You took a sip of your drink as you thought. “Mm… almost a year ago? Maybe ten months? It was a few conversations.”

“So Ahrin proposed like right after that,” she surmised. “He’s probably waiting for the right time. Making sure you weren’t too stressed with the kids, then the holidays, and being my maid-of-honor. Both of you are very thoughtful and also over-plan everything.”

“That’s true,” you sighed. “And also a bit less salient of a point coming from the poster child of U-Haul lesbians.”

Sooyoung wrapped an arm around your shoulders and rubbed your upper arm. “We’re different people in different relationships in different places in life, Y/N. You’ve got a really good guy who is head over heels for you and loves your kid as much as he loves you. Don’t forget all that in one night.”

“You’re right, SooSoo,” you leaned your head against hers. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She pecked your hair.

“Is everything okay?” Kun’s voice came from behind you, sounding very concerned.

“Oh, yeah, Y/N’s getting a little warm in here,” SooSoo informed him brightly, letting you go and standing back up. “Why don’t you take her outside, Kun? There’s a nice little garden walkway, I think there’s some benches out there.”

“Yeah, of course. Thanks, Sooyoung.”

Your friend gave you one last squeeze of your arm before taking back off into the crowd. Kun ushered you to your feet and guided you out of the main reception hall and into the much cooler nighttime air. Sooyoung was right, it was way less hot and stuffy out here, and there was a short walkway leading to a garden with some benches. Kun sat you down again there, rubbing your back as you stared listlessly out at the fountain in front of you. The fountain wasn’t on, the water inside of it still, and the air around you quiet and empty. In the distance, you could hear the music from the wedding venue, the thumping bass, and above you, a few stars dotted the sky next to a silver crescent moon.

“Is this better?” Kun asked you quietly.

“Yeah, thanks, Kun,” you replied shortly, still unable to shake the discomfort you felt from earlier. Despite your conversation with Sooyoung making sense in the moment, now that you were back with Kun, that uncertainty crept back into your mind.

“It was a lovely ceremony.”

“Yeah. SooSoo’s dress is beautiful on her.”

“Do you want to go home? If you’re not feeling—”

You suddenly straightened up to look Kun in the eye. “We’re going to get married, right? You do want to marry me, right, Kun?”

“Wh—” He scrambled to grab your hands in his, holding them tight. “Of course, love. Yes, of course I want to marry you, Y/N. Why would you think I didn’t?”

“I know we talk about it but… you haven’t proposed. And you’ve been acting weird tonight. And by weird, I mean normal. Like, not talking about marriage. We’ll be buying groceries, and you’ll somehow bring up us getting married, but now we’re at an actual wedding and you haven’t talked about us having one of our own at all…” The dam broke, all of your anxious rambles coming forth at once. “Nothing about if we should do this or that at ours, what flowers you might want, or even— You saw me at an altar holding a bouquet and are acting like it’s no big deal! You see our future in everything, but not today, and it’s been making me think that maybe you don’t see a future anymore.”

Oh god, you were fucking crying now. This was not how you wanted this conversation to go. Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you pushed them away with the back of your hand as you sniffled and tried to calm yourself down.

“Y/N, lovey, I am so sorry,” Kun’s voice was wavering too, and you knew he was holding back his own tears. “I do want to marry you, and I never wanted to make you think that I didn’t. You were right earlier, I’ve been in the fucking stratosphere all day, and I’ve been going crazy trying not to say every single thing that pops into my head about marrying you because I’ve got your ring and everything planned out for the proposal and it was going to be soon, I just wanted it to be a surprise for you and I didn’t want to accidentally spoil anything for you. But I never meant to hurt you, and I am so, so sorry that I did. God, I love you so much, it felt like my heart was going to give out when I saw you at the altar with a wedding bouquet, and then dancing after the first dance—”

You crushed your lips against his, letting go of one of his hands to wrap a hand around the back of his neck. He cupped your cheek softly, even as you kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in decades, and like you might never again, feverishly, past the point where you were out of oxygen and your head started spinning. Kun pulled back to pick up your left hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss on your ring finger.

“If I had it with me, I’d put your ring on you right now,” he promised, pressing another kiss to the empty knuckle. “Hell, we could elope tonight, find a drive-thru chapel.”

“The boys might feel left out,” you chuckled, pulling his mouth back to yours.

He hummed appreciatively against your lips, adding in between kisses, “Good— point. Pick them up on the way?”

“It’s past their bedtime.” You kissed him again. “They’d be cranky if we woke them up now.”

“Foiled again by two five-year-olds’ bedtime,” he sighed dramatically, leaning his forehead against yours.

“So how were you going to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Propose to me.”

“I’m still going to?”

“Well, I feel like I just ruined your surprise.”

“Me telling you what it’s going to be, would be ruining the surprise,” he scoffed and pulled back to let you see his indignant features. “Which I’m not going to do.”

You laughed, pecking his cheek. “I’m looking forward to it, my love.”

“And I’m looking forward to marrying you, and spending the rest of my life with you,” Kun sighed dreamily, pulling you in closer and resting his head against yours again. “I meant it when I said I’m always in the stratosphere with you, you know.”

“Me too, Kun.” You looped an arm around his back and under his suit jacket.

A few beats of peaceful silence went by, neither you nor Kun speaking, just the distant sounds of the music from the wedding, your own synchronized breathing, and a far-off train horn. You looked from the fountain up at the glowing half-moon above you.

“Thank you, lovey,” Kun broke the quiet, and you shifted your gaze to him, raising a curious eyebrow.

“You’re welcome?” You replied with slight amusement. “For what, love?”

“Somebody once told me that the whole point of being a parent was letting our kids know that they’re not alone in all this,” he began, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder where his hand rested.

“Who said that?”

“You did, lovey.”

“I did? Ooh, I’m smart,” you chuckled, patting his thigh. “You picked well, Qian Kun.”

He smiled at you fondly. “I know.”

“When did I say that?”

“Before we were even dating, you had invited Junyi and me to your apartment for a charcuterie night. When we were making that pitch for the preschool fundraising committee.”

“Oh, oh, oh, right.” You nodded quickly as the memories of that came flooding back to you. “You remember me saying that?”

“Of course. You completely changed my view on parenting that night.”

“Glad it was so life-changing for you.”

“It was also the moment I knew I was going to fall in love with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh maybe a little too hard, “Oh, Kun.”

“What’s that laugh for?” He chuckled lightly despite his obvious confusion.

“I’m just remembering how I was totally going to jump your bones that night and then Junyi walked in. Meanwhile you are just… so sweet, as always,” you admitted, stroking his cheek with the back of your fingers.

Kun’s eyes crinkled as he laughed and keeled forward a little. You let him laugh into your neck, cradling the back of his head as his shoulders continued to shake.

“I—” He coughed into his elbow as he righted himself and tried to compose himself again. His eyes were sparkling with tears from how hard he’d laughed as he looked at you now, and you affectionately touched the crinkles around his eye as a couple more giggles escaped him. Once he’d finally sobered up enough, he tried again, “You’ve also helped me realize that’s not just what being a parent is about, though. That’s what being a partner is, too. Making sure your person knows they’re not doing it alone. And I hope that’s how I make you feel, too.”

“Qian Kun, love of my life that you are—” you shook your head and grabbed his face with two hands. “Of course you do, and it’s taking everything in me not to squish your head right now because of how much I love you.”

Kun just laughed again, covering your hands with his and slotting your lips together.

⤷ masterlist

264 notes · View notes

mins-fins · 6 months ago

Text

AUDERE EST FACERE. — [Z.CL]

❝to dare is to do..❞

SYNOPSIS: where crown prince zhong chenle, forced into a marriage with a woman he doesn't like and riddled with complicated feelings, finds solace in the palace's very own medic, you.

PAIRING: zhong chenle x male!reader

GENRE: royalty au, not really modern but not really medieval time period either, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, kinda humorous, prince!chenle x medic!reader, kinda forbidden relationship, ambiguous/open ending

WARNINGS: might not be accurate to medieval times, death, blood & gore, forced marriage, mentions of disease, unhealthy ways of grieving, a lot of mentions of violence

WORD COUNT: 22.7k

NOTES: woah woah woah!!! this whole fic broke a whole bunch of isa records…….. hiiii jj 😊 hi chenle stans 😊 hello nct male reader community 😊😊😊 i hope im serving the isanator nation well (consists of 2 ppl) ANYWAY this is one of the works i am genuinely most proud of because for one, it's my longest ever work, and for two, i'm just so happy with how it turned out!! this was originally meant to be like 16k words but then i got carried away and now this is here 🙁 i truly apologize for how long this is but PLEASEEE dont get bored i swear it gets good 😞😞 and i did write ambiguous ending but it does seem pretty straightforward so um… im sorry for that, this fic would've been MUCH MUCH LONGER than 22k words but i already beat my former wc record so i just cut a bunch of other unnecessary scenes 😶 alright thats enough of my yapping!! ily jj my bsf ever ty for listening to me ramble abt this endlessly in ur inbox 😊😊💗

CHENLE REMEMBERS IT LIKE IT WAS YESTERDAY. his little feet sneakily took him away from the huge meeting room full of intimidating adults talking about gibberish, and slowly, they lead him to a much more enjoyable place. at the time, seven year old chenle couldn't figure out why his parents needed such a big meeting room, or why all of these important people came to the castle every few months, to him, those strangers were nothing but tryhards, greedy men and women who were never pleased no matter how much they were offered.

seven year old chenle could never truly figure out why his parents insisted on having him sit around with these other important adults, listening to them talk about the economy, kingdom relations, marriage, all this stuff that isn't interesting to seven year old boys.

the young prince found his feet leading him to a place of familiar comfort, the palace's own rose garden. he could never truly explain why the air surrounding the abundance of roses ever became of comfort to him, because roses are anything but comfortable to hold, but whenever he felt like father and mothers fights were getting too aggressive, he could just come here and everything would be okay.

the gardener, a woman by the name of mrs. qian, was always sweet to chenle, much sweeter than his father usually was. her son, qian kun, is basically chenle's older brother, the older boy often comes around whenever his mothers in work, and he tells chenle stories of what goes on at the village schools, the newest gossip and adventures he's gone on with his friends.

chenle often finds himself interested in the life of a commoner, they're all just so intriguing.. he can't believe the stories most of the time, but he is homeschooled, and has been holed up in this castle for as long as he can remember, so how he can prove or debunk any of these things? he just thinks that non-royals are some of the most entertaining people he knows, they're all so hilarious.

as soon as the seven year old chenle stepped into the rose garden, a feeling of relief seeps into his body. he takes in a deep breath, and finally allowed for his shoulders to slump, much too tired of having to keep his back straight all this time.

he lets himself relax into the atmosphere, finally away from the suffocated room full of adults seemingly speaking a language he could not understand. if that's what kings and queens have to do, chenle thinks he'd rather not take the throne.

the seven year old prince allowed for his eyes to scan the garden, it's empty. well that makes sense, mrs. qian isn't in today and neither is her son, they went on a holiday. he sighs to himself, he misses kun's company, but alas, no one is around.

chenle makes his way around to a specific rose bush, it has the most roses out of the bunch. seven year old chenle used to think the rose bushes were magic, the roses always grew so quickly, one day there'd be none and the next there'd be hundreds, it was purely shocking to the young prince.

chenle, as always, began tracing the shape of the roses with his finger. he finds them pretty, as he does all flowers. it might sound like he's being basic, but roses are probably his favorite of the bunch. they're just so beautiful, and most importantly— they're sharp.

but the seven year old chenle is startled out of his rose admiring due to a shout.

"hey! don't touch those!"

the young prince furrowed his eyebrows at the words, what's wrong with touching the roses? it's not like there are garden rules or anything. when chenle turned to the source of the shout, that's when he sees the person.

you, it was you. adorable seven year old you who ran up to him as quickly as you could, you stopped as soon as you made it his way, panting like you had just run a marathon. "don't touch the roses".

the young chenle blinked, puzzled. "why can't i touch them? i'm the prince you can't tell me what to do—"

"they're sharp! you're gonna hurt yourself see?" you pointed at chenle's hand, and he looked down, eyes widening as he came across the sight. his finger was bleeding, oh that's bad. "roses have thorns, you have to be careful".

chenle had no idea who you were then, but all he knew was that you were worried. your eyes were watering, as if you were going to burst into tears at any moment, and you took a deep breath as you slowly began freaking out over the small cut on the prince's index finger. "oh uh— i didn't even notice".

"it's okay really, god i have a bandaid don't i? hold on.." you mumbled, worried as ever as you began rummaging through your pockets, trying to find a bandaid to patch up the prince with.

"it's fine it's just a small cut i.." chenle paused in between his words, clearing his throat. "who are you?"

right, you were still a stranger, chenle had no idea who you were then, for all he could know, you had broken into the palace or something. you finally stopped looking through your pocket, your face went a bright red as you faced the prince again. "um my name is y/n, i'm the—"

"y/n honey? where did you run off to?"

now chenle recognized that voice, that was the voice of the palace's sweet medic. mrs. l/n had a voice that was like honey, she was easily one of chenle's favorite staff members, not only because she would always be there to wipe his tears when he scraped his knee, but she always offered him delicious candy. "oh! there you are!"

"good afternoon mrs. l/n" chenle politely greeted, and you let out a small sigh of relief at the sight of your mother, though that look of worry was still prominent in your eyes.

"chenle, how are you doing?" she reached over to ruffle the young prince's hair, which he accepted happily, giggling at the gesture. "i'm doing good, ma'am".

"he has a cut on his finger" you muttered to her, and a small 'ah' leaves her lips as she finally realized what was going on. "i wanted to help him but i didn't have any bandaids" you seemed disappointed in yourself, as your gaze immediately lowered to the floor.

"oh sweetie, it's okay" your mother shook your shoulder, reassuring you. "just remember to call me before running off".

"i'll remember, sorry".

the young prince blinked at the sight before him, though he continued to smile at the sight of your mother. "sorry for yelling at you, your highness" you muttered in your low voice, and all chenle did was shake his head, waving you off.

"it's alright you were just trying to help" chenle replied, he finds seven year old you to be the epitome of adorable, just the cutest person in the world.

"let's get you that bandaid yeah?"

chenle nodded, you nodded, and the two of you proceeded to follow your mother out of the garden and to her office.

when chenle thinks back to this moment, the moment he first met you, he likes to compare it to an explosive, just waiting to be lit, just waiting to be set off and destroy everything. when he thinks back to the first moment he met you, chenle can't help but reminisce about it.

after your mother helped him with his cut, the two of you.. talked. you talked about things all seven year old boys talk about, and it was one of the highlights of chenle's day, though he kept trying to make you drop the formalities and call him by his first name, you vehemently disagreed.

the two of you became friends (and just chenle calling the two of you "friends" was enough to almost send seven year old you into cardiac arrest), a royal and a commoner, but chenle never saw it that way, chenle has never seen it that way. a friend is a friend, regardless of status or their economic situation. yes chenle is at a great advantage, being the prince of the kingdom you lived in, but he never held it over you, he isn't like that.

you were— are a special friend to chenle. sometimes, it feels like the two of you have known each other your whole lives. you mean much more to him than he actually lets slip, but he'll never let that be known, even under kun's watchful eye and jisung's insistence on knowing if you two really are just "friends".

chenle spends a lot of time thinking about the day you two first met, it's like a looping episode of a show in his head.

"chenle? did you even hear me?"

no response.

a grunt of frustration is sounded in the room, but the prince doesn't react, much too busy zoned out as a specific memory replays in his head for the seventh time that hour.

"chenle! pay attention!"

the slam of a hand against the table, paired with the loud shout is enough to snap the now twenty one year old crown prince out of his little dazed memory recalling session. chenle startles, but he quickly lets his face relax, sighing as he rejoins the conversation he'd previously zoned out on. "what?"

chenle's mother pinches the bridge of her nose, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "marriage, chenle, that's what were talking about".

oh god, chenle resists the urge to groan. he isn't exactly on board with this whole marriage thing, but then again, he has no other choice, his father is gone and he's next in line for the throne, this is how it goes for each royal family, he should just suck it up and deal with it head on. "yeah yeah, sorry, i didn't sleep much last night".

it's not exactly a lie, these days usually have chenle plagued with some sort of sleeplessness, but that isn't the main reason he was zoned out, obviously. "alright.. anyway, i talked with the zhu's, we agreed that you and their daughter, yinuo, are to marry".

chenle recognizes the family name, unfortunately, he doesn't exactly recognize their daughter. "you're marrying me off to a stranger? what about the girls i actually know, suyin? jia? mingxia? they're actually my friends, i'd be much more comfortable with them than a princess i've never met".

"marriage doesn't work like that, chenle" the words are enough to make chenle grit his teeth, he bites his tongue, though. "all you have to do is merely get along with her enough that it looks like you're in love at the wedding, rule the kingdom, and have children".

chenle raises an eyebrow, rocking back and forth in his chair. "that sounds a tad bit dystopian, mother".

the older woman does nothing but narrow her eyes at chenle, a look he's become used to receiving from her at this point. "it's just how everything goes, le, i don't know what to tell you".

chenle bites his inner cheek, looking everywhere else in the room. he always knew marriage was a custom, if not out of true love, it would be out of convenience. chenle had been given so much time to go find a woman to fall in love with, but he didn't find it that easy, maybe he just has too many requirements when it comes to love. he doesn't exactly support the whole thing about creating new heirs, but he was born into this family for this reason, what is the point of being a king if not sacrificing his freedom for the happiness of others?

chenle has always known that he wouldn't exactly enjoy this part of his life, and his father just had to go early, he is very much upset, but he doesn't disclose those feelings to anyone. after his long minutes of silence, chenle stands up from the table, again facing his mother. "yes yes i get it, mother" he mutters, making his way over to his mother and pressing a kiss to her cheek, realizing that she was trembling in anxiousness. "don't worry about me, i'll be fine".

but would he really? chenle can't exactly determine that.

"HOW DID YOUR LITTLE MARRIAGE CONVERSATION GO?" QIAN KUN cannot contain his interest, immediately finding chenle and inquiring about his upcoming marriage. chenle can always go to kun to talk about things troubling his mind, the older is a person of solace for him, a comfort in this big castle that seems to be swallowing him whole. chenle is glad he has kun, even with how much he does tease him, he's truly grateful for the older. "whose the lucky lady?" the words are enough to get a groan out of chenle, who shoved his nose into his book.

"zhu yinuo".

kun's eyes widen, clearly he recognizes that name. "of azerene?"

chenle clicks his tongue, not sparing the older a glance. "yes, that one".

the older male hums, merely glancing at the crown prince. "why do you sound so uninterested? marriage should be a fun topic for you".

his teasing tone doesn't breeze past chenle, but the younger doesn't comment on it, focusing on the topic of the novel in his hands. "not when it's with a women i don't know, i'm just being placed into a union with a stranger, a stranger who i'm then going to have make babies with so that the treasurable zhong family lives on for generations and generations".

"well isn't that the whole point of royal families, though?" kun asks absentmindedly, it seems he meant to say that in his head, seeing as how he slaps a hand over his mouth immediately after the question escapes his lips, but chenle doesn't mind, getting offended over such a question is the last of his worries. "..sorry".

"it's alright" chenle responds, his voice a low echo in the expanse of a room. "it's how most things go anyway, i should know better than to question it".

"i just don't think it's fair" chenle only gives a mere hum, though he notices kun's tone of concern. "yeah you're supposed to create heirs at the end of the day, but not even with someone you love?"

"you ask too many questions".

kun scoffs, turning to chenle with a look of betrayal in his eyes. "i'm just saying what your thinking, chenle, i worry about you".

chenle, who sighs silently, finally closes his book and gives the older an indistinguishable look. "you don't have to worry about me, i'll be fine, i always am".

a lie, one as clear as day too. chenle doesn't exactly know how to explain what he feels, sometimes it feels like everything is bubbling up slowly, closing in on him and suffocating him to death. he assumes it's normal to feel like this, especially with people who don't talk about how they feel, but chenle doesn't know how to bring it up to people without making everything weird.

it's all just complicated.

chenle finally stands up, running a hand through his hair and folding the page of his book as to not lose his page. he makes his way over to kun, whose mindlessly folding his own clothes as he admires the butterfly tank before him.

the butterflies were an installment chenle begged for his father to get for him after he read a book on metamorphosis once, it was a gift for his twelfth birthday, though he wanted a room to be a whole conservatory for him, his father said that would be "unnecessary" (and as an adult, chenle is inclined to agree with that statement). he finds the winged beings to be beautiful, a kind of striking that only specific animals can replicate.

yes, chenle is a huge fan of butterflies, his love for them runs deep. he lightly taps the glass encasing the creatures with his nail, gaze laser focused on the flying insects and their bright colored wings.

"you say that all the time, but i can never truly tell if you are" kun finally responds after letting his answer wither in the silence of the room, his eyes wander over to chenle, who does nothing but admire the trapped butterflies before him.

the words get a small smile out of chenle, but he's not sure why, though they do make him smile. "i am fine, there's no need to look in further".

"you know me, i'm always going to look further".

chenle allows for himself to chuckle at the response. he's right about that.

he stares at the butterflies encased in the glass box, practically trapped against their own will. his mind wanders, the butterflies remind him of something very familiar.

but he pretends to have no idea what it is.

CHENLE OFTEN FINDS HIMSELF SLEEPLESS THESE DAYS. after the first two hours of insomnia took over, the crown prince decided to entertain himself by reading that book he's left off at earlier that day, but by the time he looked at the clock again, two more hours had passed, and he had finished the book which he once thought would enthrall him until his body gave into it's exhaustion. he lets his arm fall, placing the copy of strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde onto his desk. he's still not tired, for some unknown reason.

maybe another book will do the trick, chenle's mind tells him, and he agrees with that statement enough that he swings out of his bed and his feet grace the cold floor. it's cold, it's always cold at night, but chenle thinks it's always extra cold at night on purpose.

the crown prince tries his best to shake off the freezing temperature of the room, slipping on a fuzzy sweater and grabbing the lamp from his desk. if sleep isn't going to come him, he could at least spend some of the night in the library, it'll be a good way to pass time.

the library is a nice place of comfort, chenle has always been able to relax his mind the most when he's reading. reading is one of the easiest hobbies to have, because you're not tiring yourself out, but your also doing something fun (but chenle has learned that some people don't really describe reading as their idea of 'fun').

when chenle was younger, reading was really all he did. he was homeschooled, so the most lessons he got were three a day, mother and father never cared about what he had to tell them, dismissing his words as just idiotic child talk. no one ever gave him the time of day if they weren't forced to, so chenle quickly found comfort in the many books which littered the library.

by the time chenle was fourteen, he had already read most of the books in the library, and that includes the unnecessarily huge dictionary. he could almost always be found in the library if not in his room or the rose garden, immersing himself in another world of fiction or nonfiction.

the library is basically his second home, he's there all the time, engrossed in the literature which is all he can see.

the constant creaking of the old structure is all chenle can hear as he makes his way over to the library. at one in the morning, the palace is truly creepy, like one of those haunted buildings full of spirits that suddenly scare you in the night.

now, chenle isn't one to believe in the supernatural, but some of these nightly events in the castle truly can't be explained away. sometimes, he almost gives in to believing all of stories about paranormal activity happening in the castle, something about an old king going haywire and murdering his whole entire family.

father and mother would tell him the stories to scare him out of staying up late, saying that old king chen was gonna come out of the walls late at night and scare him if he ever tried to roam the palace halls past his bedtimes.

but chenle's an adult now, much too grown to be believing in some make believe ghost stories.

back to his mission of getting to the library with nothing but his tiny lamp, chenle sighs in the darkness of the empty halls, his sigh seemingly echoing in the silence and bouncing off the walls. he pauses to observe his barely lit surroundings, and he feels his stomach drop when he hears the sound of faint footsteps across the hall.

who else could be awake at this time?

"hello?"

chenle pauses again as he listens to the greeting. he recognizes that voice, it's you, chenle thinks he could recognize your voice from miles away. "y/n?" he calls out, he doesn't mean to do that, he just really wanted to say your name, is that such a crime? he doesn't think it is.

when you finally come into his like of vision, chenle lets out a sigh of relief, the pit in his stomach will hopefully go away now. for some reason, he feels much more safe with you here. "oh god you scared me ch— your highness".

ah, it's still the same, despite your long friendship, you still don't usually address chenle by his name. you always say it's because you have to "respect his title", but chenle doesn't really like it. he likes it more when you call him by his first name, even if it is disrespectful for a commoner to do such a thing.

chenle never cares when it's with you.

"you scared me" chenle emphasizes, taking in a deep breath. "my apologies".

"it's fine, uh.. why are you awake exactly?" you ask, though chenle wanted to ask you that, it seems you beat him to it. how funny. "if you don't mind me asking of course".

of course, all you ever really do is look after people, you take after your mother, it's evident to chenle that being a medic was your calling. "oh i can't sleep, i'm heading to the library to get a book that'll hopefully tire me".

you chuckle at the words, your laughter is pretty, chenle notes. "of course, you're always in that library, seems you spend most of your time reading" chenle laughs at your tone of voice, your teasing him, you talk like how your mother used to talk about him when you were children.

"reading is..fun".

those words seem to confuse you, and you blink, lightly tilting your head to the side. "i have never heard someone describe reading as fun, but i guess it makes sense for you".

chenle wants to ask about the meaning of those words, because they seem to have so many layers, but you begin again before he can even try to ask. "i heard about your new marriage" there's a certain distaste in your voice chenle can't exactly pinpoint. "congratulations".

chenle allows for himself to frown, his stomach curling in an uncomfortable way at just the thought of his new marriage. he doesn't want to talk about it, because it's just going to make him upset. "oh yeah it's quiet.. exciting news".

you pick up on his tone of disgust, his gritted teeth, and the way his eyes quickly cast around the room, but you stay silent. "anyway, i should be heading to the library, find a nice book, have any recommendations?"

you blink at the sudden question, scouring your mind for books you think the crown prince might be charmed by. "frenchman's creek by daphne du maurier".

chenle raises an eyebrow. "that's in the library?"

"yeah i uh— i read it a couple weeks ago, it was amazing" you mutter, trying to keep eye contact with the prince who was clearly trying to not look you in the eye. "i think you'll like it, i mean— i hope you do".

chenle hums, noting down your recommendation in his mind. "i'll make sure to read it then, thank you y/n, good night".

your eyes widen as you realize that it is indeed the middle of the night, and your conversation has to end eventually. "right right, it's no problem, good night your highness".

chenle frowns again at the sound of his title escaping your lips, but he doesn't say anything, just gives you a small smile and walks past you and towards the library.

he doesn't see you watch him walk away, he's much too busy thinking about how much he wants you to say his name.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT? YOU LOOK TIRED" THE WORRYING tone in his fiancée's voice doesn't breeze past chenle, but he pays it no mind, ignoring the question. yinuo blinks, clearly expecting the silence, chenle's mother did say he's prone to giving people the "cold shoulder". she sighs, reaching out to touch his shoulder but immediately pulling back, he probably wouldn't like that. "chenle.."

"i'm fine" chenle replies faster than he intends, he brushes off any dust that might be on his shoulder and rubs his right eye. "i just lost a few hours of sleep that's all" he states rather unconvincingly, but yinuo doesn't comment more, just sighs again.

chenle holds out his arm, which the princess quickly links with hers, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. "let's just get this over with.." he shakes his head, feeling a hand of support from his future wife run up and down his back. "the faster we get through with this the faster we both get out of here".

yinuo is happy to know chenle doesn't despise her, he's just not comfortable with her, and chenle, he really is trying his best, he might be coming off as rude, but he just isn't on board with this whole thing. "they're all so extra, making us do this.."

"right, the least they could do is make us enter at different times but no, we have to do this walk in together like were walking down the aisle".

chenle glances down at their linked arms, letting a sigh escape his lips as the two of them finally exit the room they had been put into together. starting their way off to the meeting room down the hall, chenle allows for his mind to wander, he can't be focused on his fiancée or upcoming marriage, he's much too focused on other things.

you, namely.

the crown prince can't focus on what's going on when the only thing prominent in his mind is you. yeah your exchange last night was a short one, but it was also a memorable one. after weeks of going back and forth with things that just didn't make sense, and a mind that was in a frenzy, just talking to you in the middle of the night was enough to relax chenle.

you two haven't been able to talk in the past few weeks.. evidently, chenle is a prince to be king who has to focus on ruling a kingdom and your a medic who has to focus on taking care of others. you two have no time to be friends now that you're adults, it doesn't help that chenle now has all this added pressure on him, and you clearly feel like he's become a stranger.

chenle guesses the.. power imbalance is what's driving this. he's apart of the royal family, a crown prince, set to take the crown and become king, your a commoner, someone who lives just above the poverty line, the only reason you're able to stay afloat is because you took up your mothers position as the palace's medic, but even then, you can almost barely take care of her.

chenle hates thinking about it, because the two of you used to be so close, an unbreakable pair, two boys who couldn't be separated even with the differences between you two. your ranks in society never bothered you, never disturbed your friendship, never disturbed you as a pair, it never mattered. he often finds himself reminiscing on those times, the times where he could see you without his mind listing everything he had to do after that.

"chenle? are you listening?"

chenle blinks out of his daze, arm still linked with yinuo's as he gazes at his future father in law. he pretends to not see the look of worry the woman on his arm sends him, clearing his throat. "yeah, my apologies".

"uh huh, my regards to you, i know the sudden.. passing of the king was hard on you, and we hope your grieving well".

so your throwing your daughter at me, how great. chenle laughs in his mind, tongue poking through his inner cheek, he already knew he wasn't going to like where this was going. "now, about the marriage—"

chenle tunes him out easily, letting out a silent sigh which his mother hears, sending him a glare from across the room as the breath escapes his lips. he doesn't pay any mind to the look from his mother, though he knows she's quickly getting annoyed with how he isn't paying attention.

the discussion is exactly how chenle thought it'd be, the parents discuss everything and just assume their children agree from the get go, they don't even bother asking them their thoughts, or even how they felt, they just threw them into this like they were some baby making machines.

chenle guesses it's just how the cycle goes, his parents had to go through this, and so did their parents before them, and their parents before them, and so on. this is how things work, chenle can't run away from his fate, even with how much he opposes this arrangement.

"and for children.." just the mention of children is enough to make both chenle and yinuo tense, but they both play it off as the cold of the room making them flinch. "you can decide how many you want, but more than one would be nice, and especially a son would be nice".

of course, chenle sings in his head. he wonders how much they'll have to drill that into their heads, some stupid importance men have or something. he glances at his fiancée, whose trembling in her place beside him. he places a gentle hand on her back. "it's alright, calm down" he whispers enough so that she can hear it over the chatter of her father and mother.

"this is not fun".

"yeah, tell me about it" the crown prince grits his teeth, his comment eliciting a small laugh out of the woman beside him. he has to admit, he does enjoy her company.

"ah, i see you two are getting along!"

upon hearing the remark, the two pause, an awkward silence spreading between them. they exchange a small glance before chenle clears his throat, speaking up. "yeah um.. this was a nice meeting, we can continue chatting about the marriage another time, we thank you for coming, the guards will escort you out".

though chenle smiles at his future in laws, he feels nothing but nauseous the whole time.

"WHERE ARE YOU HEADING, YOUR HIGHNESS?" THE QUESTION from kun isn't enough to make chenle stop in his tracks, and he continues his way down the hall. kun blinks as the younger ignores him, furrowing his eyebrows. he then lets out a sigh, letting his hands drop as his eyes stay pointed at the crown prince. "chenle? where are you going?" chenle still doesn't stop, but he seems to acknowledge the older this time.

"to the rose garden" he responds quickly, only getting another eyebrow furrow from the older. he finally stops, turning towards the other with a look that kun cannot exactly pinpoint at the current moment. "if you need me, i'll be there".

"is something wrong?"

chenle takes in a breath, gritting his teeth. curse qian kun for being so caring, curse him for always knowing when something's up. he's quick to shake his head, mustering the fakest of fake smiles. "nothing's wrong! i just need fresh air!"

kun blinks, totally not buying that horrible lie, but he doesn't say anything about it, just mutters a small "okay" and lets chenle be on his way. chenle didn't mean to lie to kun, he just doesn't know how to explain his feelings at the current moment.

so, he gives the older a small smile, turning on his heel and making a beeline towards the titular rose garden, the one that's given him so much comfort over these past few years. he doesn't know why just the presence of everyone in that room was enough to make him want to throw up, but his anxieties wouldn't settle, he can't bear to stay inside this castle much longer.

chenle has no idea why the feeling of suffocation is constantly overtaking him these days, but the walls are slowly pushing in on him, leaving him breathless and nothing more than a weak human vessel.

when chenle does finally step outside, met by a plethora of roses and the smell of pollen in the air, the pit in his stomach doesn't settle. instead of letting out a sigh of relief, he pauses in his tracks, allowing for his eyes to roam the area he'd grown to love as a child.

chenle sighs, not of relief, but sighs with another indescribable feeling he can't explain, walking up to a display of white roses. he knows they're sharp, your old warnings flash in his head as he stares at the pretty flowers before him, tracing them with his fingers as he's always done when in the rose garden.

"don't hurt yourself again, your highness".

it's when chenle hears you that he immediately jumps, but then he relaxes, slowly. what were the odds of this happening again? you seem to read his mind, because you chuckle at the expression which graces his features. chenle raises an eyebrow, a humored smile coming to his face. "you sure you actually have bandaids this time?"

the reference makes you snicker, looking down at the floor as you turn away from your childhood friend. you rummage through your pocket, finally pulling out a bandaid, one which wasn't present when you were seven and yelling for chenle to not touch the roses. "there you go, now you won't cut your finger".

for once today, chenle suddenly feels relaxed, it's always with you, isn't it? his mind notes that down, he'll remember it for later. he takes the bandaid from you, a smile coming to his face as the nostalgia settles on him. "thank you, you're always looking after everyone, you sure know how to do your job".

the words make you pause, but you don't look at chenle as you think of a response, instead turning to the white roses displayed in front of you. you lightly poke them, letting out a small hum of affirmation. "well, what kind of medic would i be if i didn't look out for others? i'd be an idiot to ever let our highness get hurt".

chenle's lips turn up, and he laughs in just the slightest, but he isn't sure why he laughs. there's just something about you that makes chenle feel at ease, you calm his worries without even having to do anything, it's not like he's even telling you about these worries either, but the anxiety he once felt seems to be nothing now.

spending time with you calms chenle, he wants to preserve as much of this time as possible.

"i started reading your recommendation" chenle suddenly blurts out, wanting to continue a conversation with you. he doesn't know how limited your time will be. "frenchman's creek.. i like it so far, it's an interesting choice, though".

you raise an eyebrow. "why's that?"

"i didn't peg you for an enjoyer of pirate romances" chenle shrugs, and he quickly looks away, not wanting to stare at you for too long, because he doesn't think he'd be able to look away.

"well i don't like limiting my interests to one genre, you'd know about that".

chenle blinks, the words striking him in a way only the words you say can. how do you always manage to do that? it's not really the words, it's just how you say them, even if you don't make your intentions clear, chenle always knows what you mean. "it always manages to surprise me, i'm not sure what's gonna happen next".

you click your tongue, a small smile coming to your face. "just so you know, it doesn't have a happy ending".

chenle gasps, overdramatizing the volume of his voice. "you're giving me spoilers? in the rose garden?" his words make you snicker, and you pick a white rose from the bush, unfazed by the thorns which slowly sink into your fingers.

"i didn't spoil anything specific" you finally turn back to chenle, twirling the rose between your fingers. "just told how it was gonna end up.." you mutter, stepping closer to chenle unconsciously. you look at up, suddenly anxious as ever. "may i?" you ask, motioning towards the rose with your eyes.

chenle blinks, his mind going blank for a few seconds. what do you want to do exactly? he gazes at your hands fidgeting on the stem of the flower, and the pieces slowly put themselves together in his brain. are you going to..? "i— yes, sure.."

you raise an eyebrow, not really trusting the seemingly hesitant consent chenle had given, but he clears his throat, reiterating it for you; "yes, you can".

upon hearing the answer, you step closer once again, placing the rose into his hair, your careful to not hurt chenle, and especially careful because you don't want the stem to get tangled in chenle's hair. "i.. i thought it'd look nice on you, and it does, you look— you look great".

chenle blinks, a sudden red hue coloring his cheeks. it's such a basic compliment, one he's been given many times by other people, but it feels different coming from you.

it's always different when it's with you.

chenle clears his throat, unable to prevent a smile from crossing his face. you don't look at him anymore, looking away to prevent yourself from burning up, but you allow for a smile to come to your face as you think about the action you just performed.

you have no idea why you're so giddy about this.

"oh um.." chenle pauses, laughing awkwardly. "thank you, that's very sweet".

"oh it's no problem i just— i uh, it compliments your hair".

chenle hums, looking down at the floor. he hopes you don't see his face burning, and you hope he doesn't see your face burning, it's such a hilarious thing, but you both are much too flustered to find your current circumstances amusing. "you have an eye for those things too?"

"well i have an eye for many things".

i can see that, chenle doesn't say that, though, just smiles at you. you only give him a mere glance, and a small smile yourself. "it was nice seeing you, ch— your highness" you notice how your correction makes chenle frown, but you continue. "i'll be off now, have a good day".

chenle only frowns again when he realizes your time together is over, he wants to continue the conversation, wants to try to use an excuse, wants to use his power to order you to stay, but he doesn't give into the desires he wants so badly, just nods. "oh uh, don't let me keep you here".

you chuckle. "i wouldn't really mind if you did".

the words have an unspoken affect on chenle, an affect that he can't exactly explain, but he can feel. he can feel it in the way his ears heat up and his stomach flips. "alright then, bye y/n".

"bye".

and as chenle watches you leave, the feeling of anxiety he'd entered the garden with seemed to wither away, dissolving away like it was nothing.

he thinks about your 'bye' for hours, unable to get the sound of your voice out of his bed.

"HOW HAVE YOU BEEN THESE DAYS?" CHENLE doesn't answer immediately, as always these days. he skims the row of books before him, fidgeting with the one in his hands. he's not ignoring his friend, he's just focused on other things. "fine" he responds, grunting as he lightly struggles to pull the book from the shelf, but he doesn't ask for help. he doesn't need help. "what's with that look?"

park jisung blinks at his longtime friend, raising a suspicious eyebrow at him. "you don't look fine".

chenle scoffs, suddenly feeling super defensive. he doesn't look at jisung anymore, the other is going to begin to annoy him if he keeps staring at him. "what do you know about looking fine?"

he hears jisung's sigh of defeat. "well i'm just concerned for you, we haven't talked in a while, you've been so busy preparing for your coronation and.. marriage".

chenle resists the urge to roll his eyes. "my coronation isn't for another three months, preparations have all been lackluster".

"and the marriage?"

chenle snaps his head towards jisung, giving him an indescribable look. jisung is quick to shut his mouth, not wanting to face chenle's terrifying wrath. the older prince glares dangerously at the younger, who chuckles awkwardly and scratches his hand. he doesn't have to say anything, but jisung knows he should probably change the subject.

"uh.. um, are you still friends with that medic kid?"

now that is a question chenle wasn't expecting. a question about you? when he snaps his head over at jisung for the second time, the younger almost freezes, noticing the pointed look in his eyes. "what?"

"y/n, the medic kid!" jisung reiterates, clearly thinking the issue is that chenle didn't hear him the first time. "his mom used to work here, right? is he still around?"

chenle narrows his eyes, puzzled at where jisung is trying to go with this.. question. he'd been dealt with a fair amount of teasing from his friend because of how much closer the two of you seemed, jisung often questioned how much of a "friend" you really were to chenle, but the older would always combat it with a glare and snappy insult as a response.

"yes he's still around.. he took over mrs. l/n's position".

jisung blinks dumbly. "oh? what happened to her?"

just the question is enough to put a sour taste in chenle's mouth. "she just couldn't go on any longer one day, she retired a few years ago and he took over her position".

"you don't know what happened to her?"

"y/n didn't tell me anything specific" chenle is beginning to get annoyed. he knows it's in jisung's nature to be curious like this but god, if he wanted to know these things so bad he could've just asked you. "just go ask him if you're so curious".

he hears a small "hmph" sound from jisung before the younger prince sounds again. "i will then! y/n! hey!"

chenle didn't actually think you'd be passing by the library at that exact moment, but you were. you pause, backtracking as you look into the library, blinking at the jumping prince before you. "uh— hi, your highness, what do you need me for?"

jisung is quick to chuckle, waving off your use of formalities. "please, there's no need to be so formal, were friends after all!"

you only respond with a small smile, giving chenle a mere glance. "i'm just doing what i'm supposed to, i can't call you by your name.."

"well right now, you're going to call me by my name" jisung demands, which makes you snicker. he really hasn't changed. you look down at the floor, hands picking at your nails. "your allowed to, right chenle?"

chenle was not expecting to be included in this conversation. is jisung reading his mind or something? how could he seem to tell exactly what chenle wanted to say? he feels his face heat up, but he isn't exactly sure why it does that. "i mean— yeah, yes, were friends".

jisung then turns back to you, a clear 'see?' expression on his face as he smiles in victory at chenle proving him right. you chuckle at chenle's response, smiling again, but it's much more directed at chenle this time. "fine then, jisung, what do you need me for?"

jisung then walks towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder (a hand chenle is suddenly laser focused on) almost as if to reassure you. "how have you been?"

your eyebrows furrow. it's not a weird question to ask, you just weren't expecting for him to ask a question. you share another confused glance with chenle, then snickering lightly. "fine.. i uh— i've just been trying my best, as always".

jisung hums, his finger going up to caress your cheek lightly, a finger which chenle again laser focuses on, he can't help but narrow his eyes at jisung, wondering what the hell is he doing?

"uh huh, and how's your mother?"

at the mere mention of your mother, you seem to go still, pausing as you let jisung's question simmer into the air. you try your best to collect your words, opening your mouth to speak, but then you close it, as if wanting to keep your thoughts to yourself.

chenle picks up on your sudden silence, as if he could feel your heightened anxieties, he speaks up; "are you alright, y/n?" he asks, concern lacing his tone as he sees the worry in your eyes as you think about your mother.

you snap out of your little daze, clearing your throat as you nod. "yeah yeah, i uh— i'm fine, mom is.. she's doing okay".

"okay?"

"she's sick" you blurt quickly, fingers fidgeting at shirt collar. "but she's doing much better now, i'm taking care of her and everything.." you look away from the two royals, scratching your cheek out of habit.

"oh, oh my god i didn't know she was sick" jisung realizes how awkward he made the situation. "um, i wish her the best".

chenle doesn't say anything, he sees the way you glance around the room, desperately trying to think about everything else. "yeah, tell her i said hi" he states immediately, and you finally stop looking around the room to look at chenle, he notices that look in your eyes, the one where it seems like your about to cry, but you're holding in your tears.

even with all that, you smile at chenle, as if his words had healed you in some way. "i'll make sure to do that, i uh.. i have to go now, i don't want for anyone to die while i stand here".

jisung's eyes widen, and he gasps. "right! go go, you have a job to do, sorry for holding you up" you dismiss his words with a wave, jisung is still so cute, as cute as he was when you were children.

"it's fine really, you actually kind of made my day".

"well i'm happy that i could!"

you smile again at jisung, then smile lightly at chenle, who almost wants to jump towards you and trap you in a tight hug. "thank you, your hi— jisung" you quickly correct yourself, clearing your throat. "i'll see you some other time, and you chenle, i'll see you later".

chenle allows for himself to go red at the words, what do you mean by later? he tries his best to register the words, and the fact that you just called him by his name after what seems like forever, but he doesn't say anything, even though he feels jisung's gaze burning holes into his head. "later? yeah, later".

chenle has no idea why he agreed.

it's you, that's why he agreed.

WHEN CHENLE FINDS HIMSELF SLEEPLESS AGAIN that very night, he doesn't even think before raising out of his bed and deciding he was going to go to the library. he stares at the copy of frenchman's creek on his desk, mind immediately flashing with thoughts of you. he feels the structure of the book cover with his finger, blinking as he weighs his options for a moment. he could go back to sleep, but he could also go to the library and entertain himself with more literature.

"i already got up anyway.." chenle mutters to himself, grabbing the book on his desk and the situated lamp on his desk. he doesn't mind the chills which course through his body, though it's cold, the cold is no longer a bother to him, he's much too busy thinking about books (and you) anyway..

when chenle leaves his room, he notices the halls aren't as dark as they were the other time he walked them when he went to the library the other night. he blinks into the halls, the air practically pushing against him the moment he leaves his room. chenle allows for himself to let out a weary breath, no one is around to watch him be vulnerable anyway.

as he steps out of his room, the floor of the old structure creaking under his feet, he feels a breeze of cold air rush past him, but for some unknown reason, he doesn't shiver.

chenle doesn't allow for himself to stand by and simply breath any longer, so, he takes himself down the hallway, his feet leading him to his familiar place of solace (well second most at least). he notices how the hallway seems to be more lit, he could see torches as he passed through the long corridors, eyes trained on the paintings which situated themselves on the walls.

there have always been paintings decorating the walls, paintings which dictate the many generations of the zhong family. chenle watched as a kid as an artist was appointed to paint him, father, and mother, a new painting to place on the timeline of the zhong dynasty which would extend across the entire palace.

as chenle spends more time thinking about it, it dawns on him, he's going to be displayed on the wall in a painting one day as the king. one day he's going to have to sit down with yinuo and their inevitable child as an artist uses several colors on a canvas to create a painting of the next zhong generation, and his eventual child is going to have to walk past it every time they make it through this expanse of a hallway.

chenle used to enjoy staring at the paintings, used to love watching the process of paintings being created, but now, with father gone, chenle can't bring himself to glance at the painting situated on the wall without feeling nauseous. every time he tries to look at it, a silent breath has to escape his lips, or else he feels like he's going to collapse onto the floor.

he developed a habit of speed walking past the final portrait in the hallway after fathers passing, he could never look at his face again after having to watch the life slowly fade away from his eyes. he can't even look at a photograph of his father anymore without wanting to throw up everywhere.

when chenle makes it to the library, having walked very fast past the last painting in the hallway, he pushes open the doors immediately, wanting so badly to escape the suffocating hallway.

when chenle does make it into the room, he's quick to close the door behind him, but he startles when he notices that someone else is in the room. he blinks and narrows his eyes at the figure in the room, then, he relaxes as he quickly realizes who it is.

it's you.

chenle feels himself calm in just the slightest upon knowing it's you in the room and not some other staff member. it's not that chenle has anything against the other staff, it's just.. it's different with you.

how many times does his mind have to conjure that up as an excuse?

chenle ignores the reprimanding voice, it's one he vaguely recognizes, it's not his voice, it's a distant voice that he thinks he could recognize if he focused hard enough.

but he can't, because you notice him, seemingly reading his thoughts as you turn back to make eye contact with the crown prince. "hi".

"hi" chenle replies easily, it's awkward, of course it's awkward, it's the middle of the night. his eyes dart away from yours, immediately scouring the library. you allow for yourself to snicker at his lack of attention on you, and he notices, now staring dead at you. "what?"

"nothing nothing" you mutter, dismissing it with a wave of your hand. chenle wants to ask about it, but he doesn't, just looks down at the floor. "how was it?"

"huh?"

"the book" you clarify, glancing down at the copy of frenchman's creek chenle has in his hands. chenle quickly feels his face heat up, of course you were referring to the book, what else would you be talking about? the air in the room? his walk down the halls? how he's doing? you patiently wait for his answer, flipping through a book in your hands as you let out a sigh.

"oh uh— it's a surprise, that's for sure, i didn't expect to enjoy it as much as i did, i didn't enjoy the ending, though".

you raise an eyebrow, but a smile comes to your face. "why not?"

chenle finally unfreezes and steps closer to you, the book tucked in his arms as he stands beside you, your shoulders lightly brushing against each other. your eyes finally gaze over at his, and when the two of you make eye contact, it's brief. chenle blinks, and he allows for his lips to turn up, he thinks you look very pretty in this moment, the lighting of the library emphasizing your features.

beautiful, he's beautiful, chenle, a voice sings in his head, a voice which is, again, familiar, but he can't exactly determine who it is.

"i wanted dona and jean to get their happy ending, i was rooting for them".

you hum, seemingly expecting that answer, your eyes shift towards the shelf before you, focused on the books which litter it. "well, i like to think it's realistic, it's not often that people get their happy endings, even if they do deserve it".

chenle takes in your words, it seems like such a you thing to say. "i would've preferred if they did have a happy ending, though, it's why i read fiction in the first place".

"you read fiction because..?"

"it's like an escape from reality".

the words make you pause, and for a second, chenle thinks he must've said something wrong, he can't read the look on your face. he blinks up at you, your silence taking him off guard. "i mean, i guess that makes sense".

you seem to want to say something else, you seem to have a lot of thoughts on your mind, but you don't disclose any of them, just smile. "so, did you like the book?..your highness".

you hesitated before saying it, and chenle knows you wanted to say his name, but you stopped yourself, as always. he feels his gut curl in an uncomfortable way, and he clears his throat.

"y/n?"

"yes?"

chenle takes a deep breath. "were friends" he states immediately, and he notices the way you begin to avoid his eyes, looking everywhere but at him. "were friends, we've known each other since we were seven, you can call me by my name".

the truthful statement makes you pause, and you begin to scour your mind for excuses. "i can't call you by your name, your a noble and i'm a—"

"that's an order".

your mouth closes immediately, you can't argue with that, you can't really argue with anything chenle says. chenle seems pleased by his victory, a small smile showing on his face. you quickly scoff, turning your head away from your childhood friend. "of course you can just do that".

"i just.. it doesn't matter if you work here, your my friend, you can call me by my name".

"alright then, your— chenle, did you like the book?"

chenle chuckles lightly, oh he loves the way you say his name. he remembers when you were younger, you'd always pronounce his name wrong, it frustrated you so much that you would just call him 'le' instead of his full name.

"i did, it was an enjoyable book, the plot made me crave more, i just.. i can't believe it ended like that".

"your still mad about it?"

"yes i'm mad about it! i need my happy ending for my pirate love story!"

you giggle at his words, you giggle, chenle can't believe it. he just made you giggle, in the dead of night, in the palace library, he made you giggle. you take the book away from his hands, placing it back between the other books in the romance section. "sadly, most love stories don't end that way".

chenle sighs, clicking his tongue. "i hate when that happens, i'd like to have just a little hope that true love actually works in the end.."

you chuckle again, shaking your head. "i never thought you'd be a fan of happy endings and stuff like that".

chenle raises an eyebrow, puzzled by the words. "why's that?" he asks, sounding just the slightest bit offended at the statement. you blink, and he guesses that you notice his tone of offense. you find it humorous, and chenle furrows his eyebrows this time.

"i don't know, i guess you struck me as the kind of person who'd enjoy bittersweet endings, you know, you seem to enjoy tragic love stories".

"i do enjoy tragic love stories" chenle makes sure to emphasize his point, and he quickly looks away from you. "but i also like when they have good endings, sometimes, love stories need their happy endings".

"that's cute" you comment, and chenle allows for a smile to come to his face. you didn't call him cute, per se, but it's still enough to make his cheeks go red. he should not be flustered, that's ridiculous, that's— he can't be flustered.

you don't mind his silence, instead walking over to another shelf to see what other books are there. chenle pokes his tongue against his inner cheek, watching you intently. the red dusting his cheeks doesn't go away, it just seems to amplify as you have your back towards him. "it's cute?"

"yeah, i can see where you're coming from, not all love stories need to be.. realistic, if it makes you feel better when the lovers have a happy ending, than who am i to judge?"

chenle rocks back and forth on his heels, letting out a small hum at your words. "so you're the kind of guy who enjoys tragic love stories with horrible endings?"

"on most occasions, yes".

you seem to finally find a book that you'll enjoy, because you pick one from the shelf and turn back to chenle. "so how are you feeling?"

"what?"

you merely glance at chenle, than glance back down at the book in your hands and read the synopsis on the back of it. "how are you feeling these days? you have a lot of new things being stacked on you now, you must be stressed out".

chenle allows for his jaw to drop in just the slightest, it's not like people don't ask him about how he feels, it's that he can't believe you noticed the mini battle he was having with himself. he can't believe you would even be concerned about how he was feeling, he felt like most people wouldn't care about what he was going through anyway.

"oh it's.." chenle pauses, truly not being able to actual formulate coherent words. "well it's a lot, but nothing i haven't been taught how to handle by father".

your face forms into an unreadable expression, one chenle hates because he doesn't exactly know what kind of expression it is. "they prepare you for things like this?"

"well.. mostly, but even with all the excessive lessons, it all kinds of goes to my head and makes my head spin, sometimes it feels like the palace is suffocating me, taking the air out of my lungs and leaving me helpless, sometimes— i don't know, i feel like i'm being swallowed by some horrible force which just wants to make me suffer, i'm not sure why i feel like this really but—"

chenle stops, clearing his throat as he quickly averts his gaze from yours. he has no idea where that vomit of words came from, but he feels if he continues talking, he's going to say something that he'll regret. you don't answer immediately, so chenle decides to speak up once again. "i'm sorry, i have no idea where that came from it's just.. i don't know, pretend i didn't say anything".

"don't apologize, it's good to talk about things like that once in a while, bottling everything up will just overwhelm you even more".

"it's just, i don't talk to people about things like this".

"why not?"

chenle shrugs, not really sure how to answer that question. "i feel they're sort of..unnecessary, i know i can't control how i feel but my feelings have never really felt important in most situations".

"they're important to me".

the words make chenle pause, his ears reddening and a sputter in his voice as he tries his best to respond to that statement. the words are so simple, but they have such a lasting effect on the crown prince that he can't really respond to them. you care, you care, he cares! that one inner voice screams in his head. he feels his heart begin beating sporadically, it's.. god he's so grateful for you. "oh.. uh, really?"

you smile, chuckling softly. "yeah they are, you shouldn't ever feel like they aren't".

chenle feels his stomach flip, you're so sweet. "i.. thank you, y/n".

chenle hopes you don't notice his red face as you spend the rest of the night conversing about several kinds of literature.

"ARE YOU NERVOUS?" CHENLE MAKES THE MISTAKE OF taking a weary breath when that question is asked. he hears the chuckle of amusement sound from his fiancée's lips, and he allows for a small smile to show on his face. "no" he responds, clearly lying, but yinuo doesn't seem to catch it, as he begins to pick at the fabric of her dress. he turns to her, noticing the clear anxiety she displays.

"i am" she responds, putting on her gloves and rubbing a scar on her knuckles. "i've never really been a big fan of.. crowds" she states, her tone exhibiting disgust as she says the word 'crowds'. chenle has been able to pick up on her habits pretty easily, he has spent much more time with her these days after all.

chenle hums at the response, he gets it, even as he grew up having to get used to these kinds of events, it never got easier. the pit in his stomach would often never cease, that nauseating feeling only heightened, and he could just barely mask the anxious expression on his face. "i get that, they're all too loud".

"i mean, do they really care about us that much? they can't just wait until the wedding.."

the sentence makes chenle snicker as he notices the mere irritation in her tone. "they all just want something to do, i guess" he mutters, pulling his sleeve over his wrist and repeating a reassuring mantra in his head.

it's nothing you haven't done before, chenle, just get it over with, and you'll be fine. chenle thinks if he focuses enough, he can hear his father's voice repeating the mantra to him in his head.

he caresses his wrist lightly, settling in the air of the room. he can hear the faint sound of people cheering outside, and just the sound is enough to make his stomach begin flipping, the anxiety is already heightening. "all that just to see us?"

"they want to see how in love we can look".

"seems unnecessary".

"it is unnecessary".

chenle laughs again, finally walking over to his fiancée and linking their arms together. he sighs, looking down at the floor. "you sure you're not nervous?" she asks once again, raising a curious eyebrow as she notices chenle's change in behavior.

"okay maybe i am a little nervous but that's besides the point".

yinuo laughs, humored by chenle's blatant honesty. he simply gives a small smile, turning to the door of the room and letting out another small breath. they have to face a crowd, a crowd of people who are here to see them and celebrate their totally real love, a crowd who are there to watch as they are confirmed future husband and wife, they're going to get married and have children that go on to take the throne, they have to look in love, they have to.. act in love.

chenle doesn't know how in love he can look, he might get too overwhelmed and throw up right then and there. just the idea of having to do all of this is enough to make him want to cry, and he never thought he'd ever think that, because he doesn't cry, he shouldn't cry, father taught him that enough through ear shattering yells and broken glass.

he hates feeling vulnerable, but in a moment like this, having to mask his feelings in front of a crowd of people who don't know any better, who probably don't care, vulnerability is his one true feeling.

he closes his eyes, taking another deep breath as he tries his best to ignore the anxiety settling upon him.

"chenle!"

chenle snaps out his anxious daze at the shout of his name, recognizing the voice as kun, who he remembers he forgot to greet this morning, as he was in a rush.

but it's not just kun, it's also you, and chenle almost falls to the floor and dies right then and there. kun has his fingers wrapped around your wrist, there's a smile on his face (and yours, chenle thinks your smile is so so pretty). "oh, hi kun, y/n".

look at both of them, chenle, not just y/n.

but for once, chenle doesn't listen to the reprimanding voice in his head.

he doesn't even check how in love with you he must look, just a few seconds ago he was freaking out over how he was supposed to look in love with the woman beside him, but he has no problem looking in love with you.

but he doesn't exactly realize that, too busy admiring you clear as day.

"i— we just wanted to wish you good luck" kun nudges you lightly, and you let out a small laugh as you look away nervously, a red hue tinting your cheeks as you avoid chenle's eyes. "both of you, your highness" he adds, bowing lightly at yinuo and nudging you so you can do the same.

yinuo just smiles, lightly laughing, but chenle is stuck in place, mesmerized by you and.. just you. "thank you, i have to say, everyone here is insanely sweet, i feel welcome".

"well that's my job, i can't have any future queens feeling uncomfortable".

the statement from kun makes you snort, and you shove him in the shoulder. you look away from him to glance at chenle, who is still lost in his mind, you furrow your eyebrows as you watch the cogs in his brains turn, what is he thinking so hard about?

"chenle" you call out.

seemingly snapping out of the trip inside of his mind, chenle looks up at you, hoping it isn't obvious that he's affected by your soft calling of his name. "good luck" you reiterate, a small whisper seemingly shared between only the two of you.

chenle feels his face heat up immediately, eyes widening at the sight of your pretty smile. "thank you, both of you, thank you".

chenle doesn't look over at yinuo when she gives him a weird look.

"right! again, good luck! y/n and i have to go do something right y/n?"

you seem to be puzzled by that comment, chenle determines that by the way your eyebrows furrow. "what? but i thought we were supposed to—"

"alright! good luck you two come on y/n let's go!" kun gives a quick smile and grabs your wrist again to drag you away from the newly engaged couple, who watch as you two make your way down the hall towards another part of the palace.

"weird.." chenle mutters.

"so what was that?" yinuo is quick to ask, making chenle snap his head towards her, clearly not expecting for her to ask him a question.

"what was what?"

"that, chenle" she reiterates, alluding to the little (not so little) lovesick gaze chenle had trained on you for that whole interaction. it's clear that, even with how chenle didn't check the adoration he was staring at you with, she definitely did. "you looked so smitten".

chenle allows for his expression to form into one of shock, what does she mean by that? what the fuck does she mean by that? that makes no sense, it's not like he's in love with you or anything, that would be absurd! that would be—

that wouldn't be entirely out of the picture, think about yourself chenle, the most shocking thing here would be you having no romantic feelings for him.

chenle is about to punch himself in the face for having such thoughts.

"i have no idea what your talking about".

"chenle, i know i don't know you personally like that, but i have never seen you look at someone like you look at him! what is his name? y/n? he has to have you under a spell or something, you were mesmerized".

chenle wants to say that those words are stupid, he wants to spit out some quick rebuttal and have them be on their way, but he can't muster up a coherent excuse for what she just described. how is he supposed to argue with that?

"well, y/n does know how to keep people on the hook".

"seems you enjoy being kept on the hook".

the statement makes chenle pause, and he feels his face burn once again, not at the words, but just at the thought of you, god he misses your presence already, is that weird to say? he's glad he doesn't say it out loud.

"it doesn't matter anyway, what am i supposed to do? tell him about it? not with how everything is turning out.. were getting married in a few months".

"but you're not in love with me" yinuo replies, she's sure of her words, she just knows, chenle almost feels like she's reading his mind. "you want him".

"i can't have him" chenle states as if it's a matter of fact, and it's true, he can't have you. it makes his heart hurt, the idea that even with how much he feels for you, how different it is with you, and how he's had these indescribable feelings for you since he was like eleven, he can't have you.

chenle can't run from his fate, the last thing he wants to do is break the rules, challenge a system that's been in place for pretty much decades at this point.

"you're not going to break the rules for true love?"

chenle just lets a disappointed sigh escape his lips, his stomach flips uncomfortably and he feels his head begin spinning, this topic makes him want to die in the worst way possible. "true love doesn't exist" he states rather harshly. god, he sounds like father, if seven year old chenle heard himself now, he'd grimace at the words and scowl at his new nature.

his heart aches as he utters those words, he can't help but think about you as he says those words.

good god, he feels so helpless.

"MOTHER, CAN I ASK YOU A QUESTION?" NINE YEAR OLD CHENLE liked to ask questions. chenle has always liked to ask questions, being curious is in his nature, it's just that unlike jisung, he's less annoying about it. when this question popped into his nine year old brain, he knew there was no way he could ever ask father about it, he'd never be able to come back from it. mother has always been much more understanding, even with the stubborn statements she often spouted.

"yes you can, chenle".

"are.. well, can a noble and a commoner ever end up together?"

the question received silence from his mother, who, though she had previously been humming to a pleasant tune, seemed to freeze at even the idea of that question. the nine year old prince watched as his mother's face did at least seven expression changes in a matter of seconds. "could you elaborate on that question, dear?"

"can royalty marry non-royalty? could i ever be with someone who isn't royal like me?"

the reason nine year old chenle was so interested in asking this question was because of something kun had mentioned to him, about one of his cousins marrying into a royal family far far away. it got his mind turning in ways only a child's mind can, he never knew that could happen, he had grown to think that he would just end up with any other princess but could he really have a different fate? could he really change his future?

seeing as how things have gone now.. no, he couldn't.

"it depends on how it goes down, chenle".

"has it ever happened before?"

"of course it has happened" his mother finally answered, and the curious young prince allowed for his eyes to widen comically. oh he was so interested now. "in most scenarios when it does happen the commoner becomes a royal".

"i thought that was outlawed".

that statement got a laugh out of his mother, which made the nine year old blink dumbly. "it can't be outlawed, chenle, that would be ridiculous".

"so could i be with someone of a different class?"

"well, it depends on how it all works out".

chenle blinked again, the wording of the sentence confusing the young prince even more. "would father ever approve of something like that?"

she then went silent again, turning away from chenle to gaze at the bright blue sky. "i'm.. not sure, you know how unpredictable he is".

"well that's why i didn't ask him this".

another chuckle sounded from his mother, and at nine years old, chenle didn't know what was more shocking, knowing that he could possibly not have to be forced into a marriage with a princess from a faraway kingdom, or knowing that his mother didn't really have an issue with that.

too bad he didn't try to use any of that childlike courage to get his point about this marriage across.

when the little parade celebrating his marriage is over, chenle finds himself immediately on his way somewhere. he doesn't know exactly where he was going, his feet seem to have control over themselves, and he can't exactly stop himself from walking.

oh, he knows where he's going.

his feet lead him to a familiar place, your office. throughout that whole.. gathering thing or whatever, he couldn't stop thinking about you. he usually can't stop thinking about you these days, just talking to you is enough to entertain his mind for weeks, surely that can't be normal, right?

"y/n?"

chenle's sudden call startles you, seeing as how you jump from your previous position at the sound of it. he just sort of stands there awkwardly, allowing for you to compose yourself as you smile at him. oh you're smile is so pretty, chenle could stare at it for hours. "oh lord, you scared me! your highness".

chenle doesn't even register the title, just gives a small smile. "sorry i'm just.." he pauses, trying to collect his words. "i don't know, actually, i just kind of came here on a whim" he shrugs, looking down at the floor and not straight at you.

you simply let out a silent chuckle, turning back to your desk and going back to packing. chenle blinks, biting down on his bottom lip as he clears his throat. "oh really? is something bothering you?"

chenle allows for himself to look up again, your back is turned now anyway, so you can't see his rapidly reddening face. "a lot is bothering me, really, it feels like i can't do anything these days without feeling like the world is slowly tearing me apart limb by limb".

"well that's certainly a way to explain your feelings" chenle can't tell how you feel about the whole thing from the tone of your voice, it's something that makes him worry, because he's anxious your making fun of him and he won't be able to tell.

much to his own surprise, you turn around and step towards him. "are you feeling alright? like— physically at least?" you ask, tilting your head to the side to get a better look at him. just your eyes on him is enough to have chenle's stomach doing cartwheels, he hopes you don't notice how flustered he is, that would be extremely embarrassing.

"yeah i'm not dying or anything i'm just.. i'm overwhelmed".

well you'd expect that from someone like chenle, someone in such a position of power. chenle is a crown prince set to be king, he's getting married in a few months (that fact makes your heart hurt for a reason you can't explain), he's the next ruler of the zhong dynasty, of course he is feeling overwhelmed.

"ah well that's expected" you laugh lightly. "you have no symptoms though?"

is my clearly reddening face a symptom? my fluttering stomach? my seemingly labored breathing? why can't you tell i'm madly in love with you yet!?

the screaming voice in his head is just as annoyed as chenle is at his current circumstances. you narrow your eyes as you stare at him, and for a moment, chenle thinks you might be reading his mind, but he quickly dismisses such thoughts because that's ridiculous.

"no, no symptoms, i'm alright".

you seem to want to ask for more reassurance, but you don't, instead shutting your mouth and smiling at chenle. "good, i can't have you dying".

"you'd never let me die".

"you're right about that".

chenle looks down at the floor, determined to not make eye contact with you. "where are you heading?"

chenle only realizes then that you're packing your stuff, he didn't even note it down when he stepped into the room and saw that you were doing it, he was much more focused on just beginning a conversation with you, he was much more focused on talking than observing.

you hum, giving him a mere glance then looking back down to the small set of items you were packing. "i'm going to visit my mother".

chenle blinks, the words coming as a small surprise to him. "why? is she alright?"

you quickly glance back up to give him a reassuring smile. "just doing a routine check up, and it's nice to visit your mother once in a while, i need to make sure she's doing well".

chenle responds with a small 'ah', watching as you continue to pack, he feels his stomach churn uncomfortably once again, if he stays in this castle any longer, he might die from the walls which seem to slowly be pushing the air out of his lungs.

"can i come?"

chenle has no idea where that came from, it's like he had no control over his own thoughts or words, he blurted that out in a moment of vulnerability, a moment of.. wanting. he can't stay here any longer, he might die. you now fully look at him and furrow your eyebrows, clearly as puzzled as chenle is by the words. "what?" you chuckle lightly, and chenle feels his face burn immediately.

"i'm sorry, i don't even know where that came from i'll g—"

"no no you can.." you pause for a moment, collecting your words. "you can tag along if you want to i just— i don't know, you can leave the castle?"

"well yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to take me with you i don't even know why i asked that in the first place".

"chenle" you say softly, and just you saying his name like that has chenle's knees feeling weak. how did he deny his feelings for you for so long when you have him feeling like this? he's almost positive you can notice how flustered he is now. "if you want to come visit her with me, you can".

chenle stares at you for what seems like years (in his eyes), contemplating whether he should take your offer. your basically holding your hand out to him, begging for him to take it, for him to intertwine his fingers with yours. how could he ever turn down such a proposition?

"i— okay".

"okay? so you'll accompany me?"

"yeah, yes yes! i will" he replies much too enthusiastically for his own liking, you seem to catch on, as you laugh at his sudden shout. if your laugh wasn't so pretty chenle would've immediately turned away and replied with some snappy rebuttal.

"nice" you whisper, finally finishing your packing. chenle watches you intently, he can't exactly speak at the moment. luckily, you speak up once again. "we have to do something, though".

"what?"

you catch chenle's puzzled expression, and you laugh once again. "a disguise, just so you don't cause an uproar while we go visit my mother".

for the first time this whole entire day, chenle lets out a small laugh, amused by the words which escape your lips. "were gonna sneak around?"

you snicker, looking down at the floor. oh you're adorable, chenle shouts it out in his head, he can't tell you face to face so he'll shout it there.

"yeah, guess you could say that".

though he's just the slightest bit skeptical, chenle trusts you, and a smile crosses his face.

CHENLE DIDN'T REALLY THINK HE'D HAVE as much fun as he does sneaking into the village with you. well it's not really sneaking, you live here, you've grown up here, you just had to put him in some totally not suspicious cloak so that he doesn't draw attention when you make it outside of the castle. he almost fell on his face when you dragged him out of the palace gates, because of the way you dragged him, and because you started holding his hand.

chenle feels like a girl obsessing over a boy crush, just you holding his hand is enough to make him begin overthinking the whole thing in his head. according to you, you had to hold his hand to make things seem more natural, but he suspects that you're lying because of how red your face is as you try to avoid eye contact with him.

chenle has only really been to the village a few times in his whole life, though he's had his fair share of experiences here as a child, he never got to stop and observe his surroundings, much too busy trying to settle his anxiety while watching all of the people in the crowd burn holes into his head with their stares.

chenle has always been fascinated by the lives of others, whether it be the stories kun told of the urban legends village kids would spread, or the many times he begged the staff to take him on carriage rides throughout the kingdom as a child. he likes seeing situations through other people's eyes, the life of citizens who don't live as royalty seems like nothing far from the fictional stories he reads in the books in the library.

"you almost pulled off my arm, that was totally suspicious!" chenle whisper-yells, but it's not a shout of seriousness, it's playful, the beginning of a banter.

"oh i'm sorry your highness! do you need medical attention?"

chenle feigns an offensive gasp at the sarcastic comment from you, which results in nothing but a snicker from you as you nudge him with your shoulder. he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb unconsciously, ignoring his clearly heating cheeks as he performs the action.

"do you still live in the same place you grew up?"

"hm? oh yeah, we could never really afford to get another place, it's become a super comforting place for me.."

"ah, i see".

chenle admires your face for much longer than he was supposed to, and if you notice, you don't seem to care enough to comment on it.

chenle allows for his eyes to roam freely around the expanse of a town. it's a pretty place, even with how tiny it seems, he feels much more relaxed here than in the large palace he grew to know as a home, the palace was really in the middle of nowhere, no fellow citizens around for him to make connections with or whatever. this town is the clear definition of community, the kind of place where everyone knows everyone.

"oh y/n! y/n!"

chenle startles from his thoughts when a shout rings in his ears, you snap your head towards the figure, a figure chenle can tell you recognize because you give them a smile, he opts to stay silent in this interaction. "hi tao, how is ying doing?"

the man smiles brightly at you, pulling you into an abrupt hug, making your fingers slip from chenle's. you squeak as he squeezes you in his arm, but you manage a smile, resisting the urge to glare at chenle as he silently snickers at your suffering. "she's recovering well! thank you so much, i don't know how i could ever repay you!"

"there's no need to" you smile softly again, finally able to remove yourself from his crushing grip, you rub your aching arm and awkwardly chuckle. "i just enjoy helping others, i'm glad she's feeling better, tell her i said hi".

"will do! thank you so much!"

the guy gives one last smack on your shoulder before walking off, and chenle has to resist the urge to laugh loudly as you wince from the strong grip who had been squeezing you to death with that hug.

"are you enjoying my misery, your highness?"

chenle can barely contain his laugh as he looks over at you, being met with your deadpanned gaze. he looks down at the floor to stop his giggling, making you frown. "no, it was just too hilarious not to laugh at".

"uh huh, you're sooo funny".

though you were clearly irritated by chenle's laughing fit, you only softly smiled at him trying to hide his laughter. you reach over to take his hand once again, just playfully glaring at him. "yeah continue laughing at my suffering, we still have to make it to my mother's house".

chenle, again, gets jolted forward by a strong tug on his hand, but he doesn't say anything more, just snickers as he sees the pure dedication in your eyes. he smiles as he sees the look in your eye, you're just so adorable.

when you abruptly stop, chenle bumps into you, and your fingers slip from his, an action which makes him frown in just the slightest. he likes holding your hand, he has no idea why, but he does.

you begin digging through your bag for your house key, and chenle simply watches, listening to you hum the tune of a song, one you always hum the tune to whenever you find yourself bored. "here" you whisper, victorious in your search for your keys. you quickly unlock the door and gesture for chenle to follow you in with nothing but the tilt of your head, he silently steps into your childhood home, a comforting feeling in the air as he closes the door behind him.

while you drop your bag onto a nearby table and begin looking through it again, chenle slowly removes the cloak he had been wearing as he observes his surroundings.

the place is nice, small, but nice. it has a comfortable sort of air that makes chenle want to immediately relax, it's not the fanciest place, or the biggest place, but it's a home, a comfortable, quiet home. chenle would love to live here, maybe in another life, a life where he doesn't end up born into a highly respected royal family, he just gets to live like this, it's a place that seems to bring a feeling of solace.

chenle glances over at you, your eyebrows furrowed as you continue going through your bag. you seem to sense his eyes, because you glance up at him and you meet his eyes. you blink, then glance over at a door across the room. "you can go see her if you want".

chenle awkwardly chuckles as he glances at the door your eyes were on, he then glances back at you. "i— can you come with me?"

chenle just wants to stay around you.

you stare puzzled for a moment, but you don't question it, you leave your bag alone and gesture for chenle to follow you to your mother's room. chenle stays silent the whole way there, noticing the way your mood changes as you step closer to the door.

you knock on the door. "mom?"

when you open the door, you peak your head through, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you hear her say something. "yes yes i know, i'll remember to tell her, i brought a guest".

chenle slowly peaks from behind you, giving your mother a small smile. "hello" he greets softly.

your mother gasps, sitting up in her bed. "zhong chenle?"

chenle lightly chuckles, looking down at the floor, you nudge him with your shoulder. "oh my goodness, you've grown so much! come here give me a hug!"

chenle is almost surprised, he was afraid she was going to have a bad reaction to his presence, but she was much more excited to see him than he thought she would be. you push chenle into her room, motioning for him to fulfill your mothers wish.

she quickly wrapped her arms around him when he got close enough to her. her hugs are still as warm as he remembers, he almost wants to hug her forever and never let go. "how are things going these days? i wanted to go to that little parade of yours but y/n forbid me from doing so!"

"because you were vomiting all morning, i wasn't going to risk it".

she pulls away from the hug to grab both of chenle's hand, smiling softly at him. the smile reminiscent of the smiles she would share with him in the hallways of the palace when she used to work there. "you always worry so much" she raises an eyebrow at you before turning back to chenle. "how have you been these days?"

chenle smiles at her, noticing you leave the room, but too focused on answering the question from your mother to follow you. "i've been good, just a little stressed from everything happening lately".

her eyes widen again, and she nods excessively. "right! your getting married soon! how are you feeling about the whole thing?"

chenle's face falls just a little bit, but he quickly reverts back to a smile, not wanting to worry her with a random frown crossing his face. "it's all.. new, it'll take some time to get used to but i know i can get through it".

the older woman smiles at him, seemingly liking those words. "that's good, i'm glad you're still friends with y/n, he missed you".

chenle blinks, the words surprising him. "he missed me?"

your mother chuckles at the question. "yes he did, i remember watching the two of you run around the castle together as children, i was afraid the friendship wouldn't last, when i first resigned, y/n said he feared you two would drift apart".

chenle almost gasps at the information he receives. were you really worried about that? for the longest time he felt like such a bad friend because he began having no time for you as the two of you grew up, yeah that's what happens as people get older but he'd always see the flash of disappointment in your eyes when he had to be dragged away for another stupid royal meeting.

"i didn't know he felt that way, it's getting much more difficult to get him alone with everything going on".

"i heard you two are beginning to talk more, he always comes to me so giddy about it these days".

chenle is again surprised by the information he hears, a small laugh of disbelief escapes his lips at the words. "really?"

"yeah, he came freaking out over you two talking about books, books! you make him so happy, chenle".

the words strike chenle like a slap in the face, it's just so shocking to him he stands with his mouth agape for much longer than he'd like to admit. his face burns at the fact, at the idea that pops into his brain.

the idea that you might feel the same.. that you might reciprocate his feelings.

he swears smoke is going to begin pouring out of his ears from how heated his face has become.

"i'm glad i could do that, y/n is truly a blessing, i don't know what i'd do without him".

chenle thinks those must've been his truest words today, a look into what's really going on in his head, a look into how he really feels.

god it's always with you isn't it?

"it was nice seeing you again, mrs. l/n, i'm glad your recovering well".

at the word 'recovering', the older woman suddenly tenses, an anxious look in her eye as she looks away from the crown prince. "right, yes, thank you for visiting, chenle, it was nice seeing you too".

chenle smiles at your mother, nodding. "i'll leave you be now".

chenle slips his hands from hers, smiling one more time before leaving her room, gently closing the door behind him. he turns around and looks over at you, your still rummaging through your back, but chenle can tell you aren't looking for something, you seem to be trying to distract yourself.

"y/n?" chenle calls out, seemingly against his own will, because he's surprised by the sound of his own voice. you simply hum in response, not wanting to look him in the eye for some unknown reason. he quickly makes his way over to you, standing beside you and accidentally bumping your shoulders.

"is she really sick? i mean she looks fine! much finer than any sick people i've seen—"

"it's her kidneys".

you cut into chenle's sentence with a shaky tone of voice, you look over at chenle, sighing as you see the confusion cross his face. "her kidneys are failing, chenle".

chenle feels his heart drop upon hearing that, and you look away as you see his reaction to the news. "what? but how did that even happen—"

you let out a distressed sigh, gritting your teeth and closing your eyes. "she contracted lupus, right before she took that break back a few years ago, she recovered and we thought everything was fine but then she started vomiting every other day and i couldn't figure out what was wrong so we went to a doctor outside of the kingdom and.."

you look like you're about to cry, and you take in a deep breath to blink away the oncoming tears, but you persist, not wanting to break down in front of the crown prince. "she got diagnosed with chronic kidney disease, by that point she had been suffering from it for a whole five months! and what can i do? it's.."

incurable.

the word simmers into the air, it's unsaid, but both of you know what's truly going on. your both silent, none of you saying a word as silence quickly takes over the room. chenle finally takes the initiative and glances over at you, the tears brimming in your eyes threatening to fall at any moment.

still, you don't allow for yourself to become vulnerable in front of chenle, wiping the tears that haven't fallen from your eyes. "it's a lot to try and digest at once i'm just.. i'm not ready to see her go".

chenle gets it, anyone would get it, he stays silent, afraid of not being able to do the comforting as well as you do. "i'm sorry".

"there's no need to apologize, i mean— this is just how life works!"

"i hate that it works that way" chenle responds, fathers dying eyes flash in his mind, and he bites into his bottom lip so hard that it begins bleeding. god, he hates that memory, father only passed away no less than a year ago, and the image of his lifeless face still haunts chenle in his nightmares.

"yeah, but what can i do?" your clearly trying to be positive, but it's difficult for you to. "i'm just worried that one day i'll come home and she'll be gone.. i already had to go through it with dad and now— i don't know how i'll deal with it".

chenle stares at you, a small smile comes to your face as you glance back at him. chenle wants to cry just seeing you try to hold back your own tears, so he looks away from you quickly.

he then looks back at you, moving closer to you and taking your hand. "if you ever need someone to talk to, to vent to, to— yell and cry at.. i'm here".

you chuckle at the words, tears again welling up in your eyes. chenle feels you squeeze his hand, and he smiles softly at the sight of you. "really? you'll listen to my stupid ramblings?"

"yeah" chenle responds, nodding a little bit too enthusiastically, but he doesn't care. "i will, your feelings are just as important as mine, and you're my friend, it's what friends do".

you squeeze his hand, laughing softly again as you let a small tear slip down your face. "thank you, chenle".

"it's no problem, y/n".

CHENLE IS GENUINELY GOING INSANE, AND ITS ALL because of you. he can't focus on anything but you, and it's literally driving him crazy. he has never, never in his 21 years of living on this earth ever felt so much for just one person, what is it with you? he can't even think about you without his face turning a bright shade of red, his palms easily get sweaty and his words become nothing but a jumbled mess.

chenle finds it hilarious, how he was raised to be poised and proper, never swear, never talk when you don't have to, never interrupt others, sit like this sit like that, speak like this, speak like that, but right now, he's acting like a psycho more than anything.

he's pacing around his room like he just lost his mind or something, completely distracted from everything else as his mind is focused on you and you only.

he must look crazy, hair messy, clothes in disarray, pacing back and forth as he tries to figure out if feeling like this is normal, or even allowed here.

"chenle? could you explain to me why your mother wants— oh dear".

kun walks in midway through chenle's strange breakdown thingy, and the younger isn't even paying attention to him because he's screaming into the pillow on his king sized bed. the older watches in concern, and the breath chenle lets out is a mix of weary and frustrated. "chenle? what's wrong?"

kun drops the clipboard he'd previously been holding to rush over to the younger's side, if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can see tears welling up in chenle's eyes. "chenle.."

chenle sniffles, looking down at the pillow in his lap. "i'm in love with him, kun".

kun blinks, dumbfounded. "with who?"

"with y/n! i can't— oh my god i'm so stupid!" the crown prince grabs his pillow again and lets out a well needed scream of agony, a scream that makes kun sigh as he stares at the sight before him. "i don't get it! why does he make me feel like this!? everything is so complicated and i can't even do anything about it because i get married in two months—!"

"okay okay, calm down" kun is quick to cut in, pressing a quick thumb to his cheek to wipe away the tears. "take a deep breath, talk coherently".

chenle sniffles again, taking in another breath and then exhaling, collecting himself as he tries his best to think coherently. "i don't know, kun, it's all getting to my head, i want him so bad yet i can't have him".

and just the fact makes chenle stomach drop, he wants to start sobbing once again, but he contains his tears. "it's stupid i know—"

"it's not stupid, chenle, it's totally fine to have complicated feelings about things, and people, but you'll never have closure if you don't tell him how you feel".

"but what's the point, kun?" chenle doesn't see why it would matter anyway, what would you even do when he told you how he felt? would you grimace and push him away? would you accept his confession? what would you do? it's all he can think about. "what difference does it make?"

"it gets the pressure off your back.. and, if it's any consolation for you, both you and y/n can finally come to terms with your feelings".

chenle's eyes widen at the words, they settle a new emotion on him he can't exactly explain. "what the hell do you mean by that?"

"language, your highness" kun jokingly reprimands, his tone reminiscent of his mothers scoldings whenever chenle would mess up the garden of roses on occasions. "y/n might've.. told me some things, but you'll have to ask him about that".

"that isn't fair!"

"it is! you have to ask him yourself, it's the only way to get yourself in order!"

chenle deadpans at his older friend, but kun just snickers at his expression, lightly shoving his shoulder. "don't look at me like that, you know i'm right".

chenle would roll his eyes, but kun does have a point. "maybe i'll listen to you.."

"you should".

chenle has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at that response too.

CHENLE THINKS YOU LOOK EXCEPTIONALLY PRETTY when you read. it's not that you're not usually exceptionally pretty, it's just that he enjoys admiring your profile as you read, eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, lips occasionally parting in shock, he could stare for hours. he might look creepy on a few certain occasions, but you rarely ever notice.

chenle doesn't know how many times the two of you have been up together late in the night, just sitting in the library talking about literature. he doesn't even remember what your talking about most of the time, but he loves talking to you about bullshit pertaining to the books your both into.

for the both of you, books are sort of an escape in a way. chenle enjoys indulging himself in worlds of fiction to distract himself from his mess of a life, and you enjoy indulging yourself in messy love stories with terrible endings to distract yourself from your own issues in life.

it's all truly a coping mechanism for you two.

you both are a coping mechanism for each other, chenle finds it all simpler around you, and you feel as if you don't have to be so professional around him anymore.

chenle doesn't sleep much these days, but that's because he's spending most of his nights in the library with you. he likes listening to you talk, the way you simply piece together your words is amazing.

"and it was so sad! i cried my eyes out for weeks after reading that!"

chenle snickers at your whining, and you caress the material of the book in your hands. "i mean.. the book is literally called, they both die in the end".

"i know! i know! but that doesn't mean it's still not sad" you frown, recalling the ending of the book you were rambling about.

you quickly stop your pouting and make your way over to another part of the library, the section including romance books. chenle doesn't follow you, but his eyes surely do, he makes sure to keep them trained on you, as if you'd disappear if he even looked away from you for just a moment.

"do you want any more recommendations? or..?"

"oh, no no no" chenle shakes his head. "i just—" he pauses, having no idea how to say the words without sounding like some weirdo who totally has a crush on you.

well he is a weirdo who totally has a crush on you, how hypocritical.

"i like listening to you talk".

you blink at his words, noticeably flustered at the way they came out. chenle takes your silence as you judging him, so he's quick to chuckle awkwardly and begin waving dismissing hands. "i didn't mean to say that i know it was weird and stuff—!"

"no no! it wasn't weird i'm just.. i'm not used to being told things like that, you're so unique with your words and i never know how to respond to them".

"oh.."

"yeah".

you click your tongue, and chenle simply stares. oh you affect him so much without doing anything, what is up with you? his ears are burning, he might collapse at the very moment.

what was that kun said again? you'll never get any closure if you don't just tell him how you feel. yeah, he isn't sure if he'll be able to do it.

"can i show you something?"

chenle's breath hitches against his will, he has no idea why he's nervous, why the hell is he nervous? it's just you, it's you, his friend since he was a child, his oldest friend, you probably know him better than he thinks you do.

you wouldn't do anything bad.

"is it terrible?" he raises an eyebrow, and you laugh. your laughter is pretty, so pretty. "well? is it?"

"no, just come here" you beckon chenle over to you with your hand, a hand he almost shies away from, but he can't shy away from you, so he steps closer, following you. he feels like a mind controlled puppet, your a magnet attracting him closer and closer until he presses into you.

you smile as you see chenle in your peripheral vision, your fiddling with something in your fingers. chenle furrows his eyebrows, having no idea what it is, he tries to look over your shoulder, but you quickly block his eyesight, much to his own dismay. "why are you hiding?"

"i'm not hiding! be patient, your highness".

your teasing tone of voice doesn't make it past chenle, but he doesn't stay anything, just keeps his mouth shut. you hum as you turn back to chenle, still fiddling with your fingers as you smile at the crown prince, who is puzzled by what you're doing exactly.

you then open your palm, extending it forward towards chenle, and his eyes widen at what he sees.

"what is..?"

"we— um.. remember that friendship bracelet i made for you when we were ten? the one you broke?"

chenle laughs lightly, his face burning. "yes i remember.."

"well, i kept mine, and because were.. you know, friends again, i remade it for you, if you want it of course!"

chenle stares at you, then he stares at the bracelet in your hand, and he can't resist the urge to smile. you're absolutely adorable, sweet, chenle really really really likes you. his silence makes you anxious, and you want to begin picking your fingers until they bleed.

chenle must realize it, because he immediately laughs, a hearty laugh, a lovely laugh. "y/n, i love it, it's so.. cute i can't— how long did it take you to make this?"

"well i was thinking about it for a while and i just barely finished this last night i just.. i don't know, i missed you, a lot" you say, your words a vomit of adoration, oh you're so adorable. "it was a brash decision really".

"you're so—"—cute—"sweet, really".

you again step closer to chenle, silently asking to have his wrist with the extension of your hand. he doesn't even think before placing his hand into yours, allowing for you to slip the bracelet onto his wrist. it fits perfectly. of course it does, chenle can barely stifle his giggle.

he feels so giddy.

you don't let go of his hand, and chenle doesn't move his hand either. he stares at the indirect act of affection, his hand gently placed upon your palm, a palm that you aren't moving. what are you two doing? what the hell is going on?

"y/n" chenle calls out, his voice barely elevated as he avoids eye contact with you. "what is.. what are we doing?"

"i don't know" you mutter, blinking. you don't even think before taking your free hand and intertwining it with chenle's other free hand, now your holding both of his hands, an action that has chenle's face reddening to amazing heights. "your hands are warm".

chenle simply looks away, basking in the feeling of your fingers laced with his. he likes holding your hand, it just feels right, your fingers intertwined with his, your hands placed on his.

"yours are cold".

the words are nothing but your observations of each other whispered into the air. it's a strangely intimate moment, you two are just staring at each other in the library, your short breaths can be heard in the silence of the huge room around you.

you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, then stare at chenle's. chenle blinks, he sees you, he sees what you're doing, but it doesn't seem like you're trying to be slick, you don't care, you are unashamed in your decision.

he isn't really sure how to feel about that.

you lean closer, much closer than chenle thinks he could ever handle. you give a small smile, and chenle wants to faint. he's holding your hands, your leaning close to him, and you look you want to kiss him.

and he wants to kiss you.

oh he wants to do it so bad.

"may i?" you ask, but you aren't looking chenle in the eyes, your staring directly at his lips. chenle almost chokes on his spit, are you really asking him if you can kiss him? do you really like him as much as he likes you? is he dreaming?

he stares like an idiot for so long that he almost looks frozen.

chenle nods wordlessly, but that's not good enough of an answer for you.

"verbal consent, chenle".

chenle wants to pull you into a kiss by force right now.

"yes! yes, you may".

you note his enthusiasm, enthusiasm that makes his face redden, he looks away from you, clearly embarrassed.

you chuckle silently, letting go of his left hand to take his jaw and turn him back towards you. then, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.

it's short, sweet, and ends in pretty much two seconds.

your cheeks are dusted red, and you immediately look away from chenle upon finishing your action. "that was stupid, right? i'm sorry! i don't know why i did that i jus—"

chenle doesn't let you finish, he grabs the back of your neck and smashes your lips together. you let out a small squeak of surprise, clearly not expecting the action, but you quickly relax into the kiss, sighing softly as you let an arm wrap around his waist, pulling him closer with your hand on his back.

it's.. nice, it feels right, chenle is relaxed. his heart isn't pounding uncomfortably, he doesn't feel that anxious pit in his stomach, his chest isn't tight, he feels like he can breath (ironic, really), and he doesn't want to burst into tears at his circumstances.

he feels good, he feels content.

god, it's always with you isn't it?

"wait wait, hold on" you pull away for air, pressing your forehead against chenle's as you gather your words. you chuckle awkwardly, looking down at the floor instead of at the crown prince in front of you. "sorry, i don't know how to feel about this".

chenle blinks up at you, and all you can see are his pretty eyes staring at you. you fumble through your speech, trying your best to be coherent even with the way he was staring. "i'm just.. i don't know, i have to check up on my heart levels and shit—"

chenle gasps loudly. "language, y/nie".

"you can't just say that after you literally took away my breath you.." you stop in your speech, snickering at the way you're acting, the red on your cheeks doesn't disappear, but chenle thinks he likes it that way.

"y/n" you look up as chenle calls your name again, now completely focused on him. "i.. i don't really know how to say this but i— i like you, okay? like a lot, not even just that i'm in love with you! it's.. complicated".

wow, so much for a smooth confession, chenle.

chenle narrows his eyes at the voice in his mind, it sounds like.. you?

you freeze at the confession, your whole body paralyzed as you try your best to process the words in your head.

"oh".

chenle can't tell how you feel by your tone of voice, but to him, it doesn't sound good.

CHENLE USED TO BE AFRAID OF ASKING HIS FATHER certain questions. he was unpredictable in the sense that chenle never knew how he'd react if he asked him a question as simple as what 1+1 was. when father was alive, chenle feared him, not because he was physically violent or anything, but because he was intimidating. the air temperature would lower whenever he stepped into the room, and the way his voice boomed when he talked was enough to have chenle shivering for weeks.

"father, may i ask you a question?"

"is it a stupid question?"

at thirteen years old, chenle was still as fearful of his father as he was back when he was seven, and he almost wanted to cry the moment his father responded to his question with another question. he swallowed his own spit, a feeling of anxiety immediately settling onto him. "well— i'm not sure.."

his fathers shoulders relaxed, and he hummed. "what is it, chenle?"

"why do i have to get married?"

the question was much more abrupt than chenle wanted it to be, and he clamped his mouth shut as soon as the words escaped his lips. his father stayed silent at the question, which didn't lessen his worries, it worried him much more than it should've.

his father then chuckled, he chuckled, and chenle almost let out a gasp upon seeing the sight. when was the last time he'd seen that happen? the sight was truly one to behold, he was amused, amused!!

"why are you so curious about that? you're way too young to be interested in stuff like marriage".

"i'm not that interested i just— i heard mother say something about it and i.. i don't know! i just want an answer".

his father turned back to him, an unintelligible expression on his face that chenle still doesn't understand even to this day. "let me ask you a question, chenle, do you want to get married?"

the question struck chenle as odd, but judging by his father's smile in the moment, the question was very much needed. the thirteen year old prince blinked, puzzled, but he didn't let the question linger in the air for too long, afraid of upsetting his father with his silence.

"maybe, in the future, when the time is right, with someone who i like, and know is a good.. person to me".

"person?"

chenle nodded, wordless as he tried his best not to shrink under his father's gaze.

"ah, i see".

chenle had no idea where he was trying to go with that question and statement.

"what kind of person?"

chenle was once again speechless at the question, he allowed for his eyes to roam around the room as he scoured his brain for an answer to his father's question. then, he spotted his answer, it was you, giggling with kun about a dumb joke as your mother rummaged through her work bag for something.

you caught his eye in the moment, smiling the sight of him as you waved, mouthing a small hi from where you were across the room.

chenle giggled at the sight, waving as well as he returned your greeting.

unfortunately for him, father noticed everything.

"oh? someone like y/n?"

chenle immediately snapped his head towards his father, beginning to sputter at the assertion from him. "y/n? what do you mean by that?"

his father merely glanced over at you, his lips unconsciously quirking up into a smile. "you seem to like y/n, the two of you are friends right?"

"yes, yeah we are".

"huh" his father clicked his tongue. "if you ever do get to decide who you want to marry in the future, let it be someone like him".

chenle choked on his spit, he had no idea how to respond to that. the words have stuck with him forever, even after father's death, even after his marriage to yinuo was confirmed, the words ring in his head whenever chenle does as much as look at you anymore.

it's been a week, a week, a whole entire seven days, and you have been avoiding chenle like the plague. literally. you see him in the halls and make a break for the nearest door, you catch his eyes randomly and you immediately look away. you don't smile, you don't stop to make small talk, you just turn your back and run away.

did he do something wrong? did you really not return his feelings? (no! that can't be true! why would you kiss him back if you didn't feel at least something for him?). chenle has no idea why you're suddenly avoiding him, but you are, and he has to figure out why.

so, when chenle finishes having a totally fun conversation with his mother, he makes a beeline towards your office, he knows your there, because you aren't anywhere else during the day usually. you don't visit your mother on tuesdays, chenle knows that very well.

he stops in front of the door of your office, a sudden anxious feeling taking over him. he raises his fist to knock, but then lets it fall, he instead turns the knob and opens the door to your office.

you don't perk up immediately at the sound of the door opening, mainly because your back is turned and your focused on cleaning up a rubbing alcohol spill. chenle doesn't say anything, the silence in the room practically swallowing him whole.

you still don't look back, simply humming. "did you leave something here, kun? are you going to nag me about cuts again?"

chenle keeps silent.

when you finally do turn back to look at chenle, expecting kun, you pause, an unreadable expression crossing your face. you clear your throat, smiling awkwardly as you tucked your hair behind your ear. "hi, your highness".

chenle's jaw clenches, what's with the sudden switch up? why aren't you calling him by his name anymore?

"hi, y/n".

another uncomfortable silence takes over the room, and chenle wants to die in that very moment. there's no playful banter, there's no snickering, you two aren't talking, this is one of the strangest things to ever happen to the both of you in your whole entire friendship.

you two always talk, even if it's just small talk, this random silence makes chenle anxious.

"did i do something wrong?"

judging by your reaction, that wasn't the question to ask. you simply chuckle, going back over to the spilled rubbing alcohol and finishing up with your business. "no".

"so what happened?"

"nothing happened".

"it doesn't seem that way, you've been avoiding me ever since.." chenle looks down at the floor, picking at his nails as he tries not to stare at you. "you know".

you hum, finally turning back to chenle again with the intention of making eye contact. chenle looks over at you, but not directly in your eyes, just at your face. "we can't, chenle".

"what?"

"we can't be.. we just can't, chenle".

chenle's eyebrows furrow. "you could at least elaborate on that".

"you know what i'm talking about, chenle" you grit your teeth, but you aren't frustrated by chenle, no, you seem frustrated by yourself. "you're getting married soon and i'm.. i'm nothing like you, this isn't right—"

"what makes you think that?" chenle cuts in, what is wrong with you? what the hell is wrong with you? is that really what you think? he's about to kill you. "are you embarrassed?"

"embarrassed? what? no! no! i'm literally the one who offered to kiss you i just.." you cover your face with your hand, letting a distressed groan escape your lips. "i don't want to be the reason everything goes wrong for you".

"is that really how you feel? is that really how you think i feel..?"

"chenle" you begin softly, your tone of voice making chenle's stomach flip. you close your eyes and clasping your own hands together. "i do like you too, i— love you, even, but we just can't be together".

oh. that's what it's about.

chenle sucks in a breath, he wants to shout at you, not because your making him mad, but because your right, and he knows it. he wants— no, he needs to break something, throw something against the wall in frustration, break a glass window. just anything to keep himself from having a full on mental breakdown from your very words.

"of course you would say that".

you scoff at his petty tone, but you sound more disappointed than frustrated. "your acting like i'm doing this on purpose, if things were different then maybe—"

"why can't we make it work now? huh? why does it have to be if things were different?"

"because you're getting married chenle! you— you're going to become king and i don't want to hold this over your head".

"you're so.. stupid! how is that all you've gotten from this situation?" now chenle is getting desperate, he wants you to change your mind, even if he knows it's unlikely that will actually ever happen. "you're not holding anything over my head and you're not going to make anything go wrong, i don't get it!"

"i'm being realistic.."

"how is that realistic?"

"because it's better than potentially losing my job! chenle! i have to take care of my mother, i can't afford to risk my position because someone thinks you're cheating on your fiancée with me".

your words sting, but they don't sting chenle, they sting you. your chest hurts, so you simply shake your head, sighing in defeat. your arms drop to your side and you turn away from chenle, gritting your teeth.

all chenle can do is give you a look of sympathy. "y/n—"

"chenle, leave it alone" you snap, yet you don't come off as annoyed, more upset. "i'd prefer if you'd leave".

you really just need to think, you just need to peacefully gather your thoughts without chenle in the room.

chenle wants to argue with you, to walk forward and take you by your arm, to grab you by your face and kiss you senselessly whilst telling you that he doesn't care about what anyone thinks.

but chenle obeys your wish, turning around and leaving the room.

KUN KNOWS CHENLE ALL TOO WELL AT THIS point that the younger is convinced that he's a mind reader. from his narrowed eyes to his silent snickers, he can always tell what chenle's feeling before chenle himself even does. back when they were younger, chenle assumed kun had to be some sort of supernatural being, possessing some kind of telepathic power or something, but as he's grown up, he realizes the older is just that observent.

case in point: chenle's current attitude.

"why do you keep sulking? they teach you not to do that at like.. age ten?"

kun's comment doesn't receive it's usual rebuttal from chenle, it simply gets silence, silence that kun hums at. he resists the urge to roll his eyes, standing beside the stubborn crown prince. "okay, tell me what happened".

"what?"

"there's no use in pretending that you don't know what i'm talking about, chenle, what happened?"

kun has always been assertive in this sense, chenle finds his power to be absolutely shocking. maybe, in another universe, their roles are reversed, kun would make a better ruler than chenle ever could anyway.

"i'm an idiot, kun".

the statement results in kun letting out a strange sound, a sound of complete confusion. he then raises an eyebrow, one that makes chenle want to dig a hole and die in it forever. "what is that supposed to mean?"

chenle scowls, covering his face with his hands as he resists the urge to claw his own eyes out. he lets out a groan as your face flashes in his mind, oh he is so stupid, why couldn't he just be fearless? why does he have to be such a coward?

why couldn't he be brave for you?

"i— god, i confessed to y/n but i even managed to mess that up and now we're on bad terms.."

kun goes through seven expression changes as he processes the information. "what? what are you saying?"

"he just told me the situation like how it is" he grits his teeth, looking away from the older. "we can't be together no matter how much we want to, i'm getting married and he can't risk losing his job and.. i have to go through with the marriage".

"who says that?"

"my mother, kun" chenle sighs, feeling as if he just got punched in the gut. "i don't want to put too much on her shoulders, a marriage like this has been planned for me for who knows how long and she's clearly not her best considering father didn't pass that long ago and.." a groan leaves his lips, a sour taste in his mouth. "this will make her happy, i just want her to be happy".

kun stares in silence, clicking his tongue. "have you ever tried to prioritize your happiness?"

chenle sighs. "we're not starting this again kun—"

"no, we are going to start this again, you have to think about if you're happy before ever going through with a marriage, marriage is a legally binding thing! you're gonna be in a union with this woman until you die! are you really happy with that?"

chenle opens his mouth to speak again, but it falls shut. he can't really respond to that.

all of his life he grew to believe that he'd eventually get used to arranged marriages and the idea of having to warm up to his partner. all royalty have to do it, it's just apart of the process. heck, chenle is the result of an arranged marriage himself, why would he ever challenge it when it was always the most likely outcome?

it's different because it's you. chenle can't possibly think about going through this marriage at all now that he's realized how he truly feels for you, it's not right, he shouldn't, he can't.

you're a terrible liar, chenle. at the end of the day, you will go through with this marriage, it's all too risky to not.

"i.. no, i'm not" chenle finally responds, his voice a mix of disgusted and frustrated. "i just— i always thought it was supposed to be this way, i don't want to just.. do it differently".

"well why not?"

"because this is for the good of my future, for yinuo, for my mother, to test if i can live up to the ruler my father was".

chenle bites his inner cheek, suddenly feeling nauseous. he closes his eyes, not wanting to face kun's gaze.

the older simply sighs. "i can't make you do anything you don't want to, chenle, but don't make a decision you know is going to leave you unhappy, i'd hate for you to be stuck in an uncomfortable position for the rest of your life".

and with that, kun turns and walks out of the room. chenle doesn't open his eyes until he knows kun has left the room.

the words ring in his head all day.

WHEN CHENLE WAS ELEVEN, YOU TAUGHT HIM about the several constellations that appear in the night sky. you taught him their names, how they form, what they represented, and your thoughts on them. you always had a thing for those luminous balls of gas in the sky, something about them always left you so intrigued, waiting for the next time they would show up so you could drag chenle out in the middle of the night to see them with you.

tonight, andromeda is in the sky.

it's never been a favorite of yours, more one of chenle's favorites, but he knows you'll be outside, staring at the aligned stars in the sky. he takes kun's words into account, and wishes his mother a good night before turning on his heel to make his way towards a familiar place of comfort.

the rose garden, of course.

the best thing about the rose garden is that it has the cool glass roof you can see the sky through. it was an addition that was only made a few years ago, one last hurrah for mrs. qian before her eventual retirement.

chenle spent a lot of time reading about constellations, all the information he learned he would relay to you. he loved seeing how interested you were in the information you already didn't know, your eyes would widen comically and then they would light up.

constellations have always been special to me, you told chenle once. they remind me of dad, he's the one who taught me about them, i like to think that he's now become apart of cygnus.

chenle was surprised by your way of grieving, but he couldn't exactly blame you. you liked to think your father became one with the stars, and you'd always be especially excited when cygnus appeared in the sky.

when chenle steps into the rose garden, he isn't surprised to see you already there, lips parted in surprise as you stare up at the sky through the glass rooftop. you don't notice him immediately, but when you do, you smile. "hi".

chenle bites down on his bottom lip, but he steps forward anyway. "hi".

you put your head down, then turn to chenle with an unreadable expression on your face. "i missed you".

chenle allows for himself to lightly chuckle at the fact. "you're the one whose been ignoring me all this time".

your shoulder slump, a small sigh leaving your lips as you rock back and forth on your heels. "i do realize that was pretty.. rude of me, i just needed time to think, i was probably going to have a breakdown if i didn't collect my thoughts".

chenle nods, pressing his lips together in a thin line. an uncomfortable silence passes through the air in the room, and you glance up again to examine andromeda once again.

"i'm sorry".

you snap your head over at chenle. "for what?"

"for yelling, and for calling you stupid" chenle looks away from you, ashamed of himself. "you were just being realistic and i was.. i wasn't thinking clearly, like an idiot".

"don't say that" your voice is so soft, it probably feels like clouds. "i get where you're coming from, just saying those words made me sick.." you pinch the bridge of her nose, and chenle can't stop his head from turning so that he can stare at you. oh your side profile is so pretty, chenle could admire it for hours. "i'm sorry, chenle, you probably felt like your feelings didn't matter in the moment and that was so terrible of me to do, romantic feelings or not, you're my friend, and i care about how you feel, i shouldn't have dismissed you like that".

chenle can't resist the urge to smile, his lips turn up much too quickly, but of course they do, because it's you, it's always with you. chenle has never felt such a way for another human being in his life, but he guesses your whole relationship must've been planned by the universe or something.

"you're so.. stupid" chenle reiterates, but it's said much more affectionately than the last time. "you have always considered my feelings, you are literally one of the sweetest people i know, don't apologize for thinking about yourself for once, your job is much more important than our.. relationship thing".

you pause at the words, shaking your head as a small snicker falls from your lips. "i love you, chenle".

oh.

if chenle didn't have any self control, he would've done a trust fall right then and there. he wants to faint onto the floor and never get up. hearing the words from you makes him exceptionally giddy, you make him happy, you make him so happy, oh chenle is so glad to have you in his life.

happy ending or not, at least he finally knows what you feel for him.

"i love you too" he whispers, his voice getting stuck in his throat, the shock doesn't wear off that quickly, unfortunately. you reach over for his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. it feels so right, chenle could just be like this forever, and everything would be fine.

as long as he's with you, everything will be fine.

you hum at the response, a red color dusting your cheeks. you could just barely stifle your giggle, and it's simply amazing to chenle. you're just as giddy about him as he is about you.

oh chenle loves you so much.

you look up at the sky once again, eyes lighting up at the sight of the aligned stars. "andromeda has always been your favorite, right?"

chenle wants to faint, you remembered. "yeah".

you smile, your smile is beautiful.

you're a desperate man, zhong chenle.

he can't exactly disagree with that.

"you have good taste".

"you flatter me too much".

you finally looks back down, snickering as you squeeze chenle's hands. you lean forward and press a kiss to chenle's lips, it's simply a peck, but chenle loves it. "you deserve it".

chenle wants to squeal like a teenage girl with a crush, you're so cute, you're so adorable, he loves you, he loves you so much.

maybe you can't make it work now, not in this universe at least, but there could be another universe, another timeline where it does work, where it doesn't have to end like this.

chenle is upset it can't be this universe, but this is just how life works. knowing that he can't change his fate, knowing that he will go through with this marriage, knowing that he probably has no true shot with you is all upsetting, but he'll learn how to deal with it, at least you're still by his side.

at least your still in his life, he's grateful for that.

and when he sees you giggle once again, his heart warms. as long as you're happy, that's all that matters.